Sookie the Vampire Slayer
by Sleepy Lotus
Summary: In an alternative universe in which Sookie kicks ass, she and Sheriff Northman have a history. S/E.
1. Armed And Dangerous

**Sookie the Vampire Slayer**

**By: Sleepy Lotus**

_In an alternative universe in which Sookie kicks ass, she and Sheriff Northman have a history. S/E. _

**Chapter 1: Armed and Dangerous**

Ten years.

Ten years, and hardly anything had changed. Fangtasia had undergone an expansion, gained a new level to accommodate more tourists, but it still _stank _the same, even from the outside.

Sookie didn't mean the smell, though that was in there too somewhere. Alcohol and sweat, and sex. But what turned Sookie's stomach was the psychic _stank_. She'd ignored it the first time she walked through the doors, so long ago. What seemed like an _eternity_ ago, looking back on the innocent girl she'd been, and the woman she'd become.

But now, Sookie could not ignore the _despair _that clung to the walls of this dive. Humans and vampires alike who desperately wanted to _feel _something, left a nasty aftertaste behind. There was death too. And then, there was the _blood_. Nothing visible to the naked eye, but it clung in nooks and crannies, those little crevices no mop could really ever reach.

All in all, her skin veritably _crawled _as she approached the bouncer at the door. This could go one of two ways, she knew. Bad, or worse, and it would all start at the door. She could see the vampire was blond, long hair. Trashy goth clothes…she held her breath, waiting for her to look up from an ID of a frat boy in front of her.

And released it with relief.

Not Pam.

The bouncer gave her a funny look, sensing Sookie's discord, but waved her through. A new vampire, didn't know her.

Sookie knew she wasn't _quite _dressed in the right uniform for vampire bar hopping. She wore black leather, but a motorcycle jacket, that concealed a shoulder holster containing a Berettta 9mm. Tight jeans, dark wash. Black cowboy boots. Business or pleasure, who could tell, in Louisiana?

Sookie hit the bar, ordering a gin and tonic, and scanned the crowd. The throne lay empty, and somehow more ominous unoccupied. The vampire that killed you was the one you didn't see, lurking in the shadows, she'd come to learn.

She didn't think Eric Northman would try to kill her on sight, but she'd been wrong before.

They _did _have a history.

The vampire slayer picked through minds, but found nothing but thoughts of sex and loneliness. Her job couldn't possibly be so easy. Resigned, she pulled the photos of the girls she sought information about, and flashed them around. Most people were annoyed by her interruption, no one knew anything. The bartender was new too, so she decided to take a chance.

Fangtasia went through bartenders fast, she knew.

This one was of latino descent, and spoke with a heavy accent. She found it easier to converse in Spanish with her, and the small woman rolled large dark eyes to study the photos with a stare so intense, Sookie half expected them to burst into flames in her hands.

Apparently, Carmen _had _seen the both of them at Fangtasia here and there, but couldn't remember how many times, or who with. _One makes a point not to remember such details here, _blah blah, yeah, Sookie knew all too well.

But it was a start.

Sookie sipped on her gin, and turned to take in the crowd, keeping an eye on the bartender, an eye on the door, and her mind on the crowd. It was almost to her surprise when a young vampire siddled up next to her, with the obvious intention of hitting her up. The vampire slayer had forgone the dress and heels for a reason; she could do without the male attention, it got in the way. In all modesty, she worked out like _hell _for her job, lifting weights and running-it had its aesthetic perks, but such perks she did not intend to share with _this _crowd.

"Move along, shorty," she deadpanned, before the handsome young dead thing could even open his mouth. "This pony ain't for sale."

Anger darkened his countenance; Romeo didn't like taking no for an answer, apparently. "Don't be difficult, darling."

She felt the tug on her mind, the young vamp attempting to glamour her, and Sookie just sneered. "You're still here?" She set down her gin on the bar. She had a _feeling_. A bad one.

"Seems someone needs to teach you some manners, girlie. Humility goes a long way."

"So does a pulse, but you don't seem to have one."

She felt him more than saw him, and responded intuitively. The young vampire suddenly found himself not with his hands around her throat, but with his arm twisted around behind his back, his face intimately acquainted with the polished oak of the bar.

No human should have been able to hold a vampire like that, but Sookie Stackhouse wasn't exactly human.

"Get off me," he snarled, fangs distended, but struggled to no avail.

"Don't think so, fang boy. Nice to meet you, I'm Federal Marshall Sookie Stackhouse. I am a vampire slayer for the state of Louisiana, and I just caught you red handed trying to use unlawful methods of mental coercion on a human being. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"You're hurting me," he grumbled in a moment of humility.

Rufus Jones never expected to have his ass handed to him by a small blond woman in the middle of Fangtasia, that was for damn sure.

"So _violent_, Sookie Stackhouse. And I remember the young, gentle thing you once were."

Sookie's heart dropped to her feet at the sound of _that _voice, coming from somewhere behind her.

It's the vampire you _don't _see, that always gets you.

"You mean the naïve, stupid girl I was?"

She didn't have to look at Eric to know that infuriating smirk to be firmly in place. The one she never could quite decide to slap or kiss-she would do neither, but it was a damn near biblical feat of self control.

"I would prefer _innocent_," he said softly, so only she could hear.

Sookie shook off the warm feeling welling in her heart, that threatened to betray her once more. It was like no time at all had passed; Eric was still a handsome devil. Still knew what to say to make her melt.

Too bad he was a dead man, and a manipulative one to boot.

"Tell you what, vampire," she said theatrically to her captive upon the bar, so all around could hear. "I'm going to let you go with a warning this time. But if I catch you doing it again, it's the sunroom for you."

The sunroom was a method of execution devised by the state of Texas, but used almost nation wide. Less messy than stakes, the remains burned to a nice crisp that could be vacuumed up around noon.

Vampire rights groups had been up in arms about it for years.

Sookie knew it wasn't a clean way to go, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care anymore. She'd cleaned up too many victims, to empathize with the vampires.

Sookie turned to find Eric staring down at her, intense blue eyes, the color of a fine aquamarine, glittering with a deadly intelligence no gemstone could ever convey. Once, those eyes had swept her off her feet.

Now, they still inspired a certain jolt of lightning below the belt, but at least she had the sense to be _angry _about it.

"So, what brings you our humble establishment tonight, _Marshall _Stackhouse? It has been a long time."

He seemed entirely too amused by her title.

He could remember when she'd been but a lamb, wandering through his bar with a look of bewildered wonder upon her face, just young enough to drink and not belonging in the crowd there in the least. Visions of her white sundress still danced behind his eyes before his day rest, now and then.

Ten years, a drop in the bucket to a creature such as him.

Ten years had seemed an eternity, without even a sighting of her, since that fateful August night when she cast him from her life forever.

"I was hoping we could talk about the Monster of Bon Temps. I've been assigned to the case."

"What does the Monster of Bon Temps have to do with vampires? Tragic, yes, but these killings are none of our concern."

"Actually, forensic evidence has brought to light that one of you _is_ responsible. So are you going to do your duty as Sheriff of Area V, or are you just going to lounge around on your throne all night like a freak on display at the circus?"

A dark look crossed Eric's expression, a beast gliding to the surface and disappearing back down into the dark depths. Sookie reminded herself to tone it down. So what if she'd been stocking up insults for the past ten years, should this day come when he finally stood before her?

She could be a professional, even if she had an alarming desire to scream and rage at the thousand year old vampire.

"My office?" Eric stepped aside, waving her on. She knew where to go. But there was no way she wanted him at her back.

She would never, _ever_ trust him like that again.

"You first."

Eric protested not, turning on his heel, parting the crowd around them like an artic icebreaker. Sookie couldn't see the expression on his face, but if the fangbangers cowering were any indication, it wasn't a happy one.

The vampire, of course, had not changed a bit, and Sookie _knew _for a fact that walking behind him afforded her the best view in the tri-county area. She hated him just a little for it.

Sookie entered Eric's office warily, none too thrilled to be in an enclosed space with a thousand year old vampire.

Eric leaned against his desk, crossing chiseled arms over a muscular chest. A long silence passed between them, and Sookie fought not to squirm under his evaluative stare. She was a tough-as-nails vampire slayer, god damnit. She wasn't a 21 year old virgin anymore, dazzled by the fact that she couldn't read his thoughts, and his striking good looks.

"You are still so _very_ beautiful," he finally broke the silence, and there was a sadness in his eyes that caught her off guard. "I had wondered how the years would treat you." How death's hand would paint the years she paid him.

He'd offered her immortality once, but she'd refused for her love of the light and the sun. He'd been certain he could convince her though. They were _supposed_ to have more time. Still, Eric felt robbed of her, and such a sore spot left him feeling none too pleased with himself.

"Don't," she spat. "I'm here about the murders. Nothing more."

"You don't miss me at all?"

Eric found it hard to believe. The sound of her pulse thundered in his ears; he knew he still affected her, even if she resented him for it. The vampire pushed away from the desk, and Sookie held up a hand, as though warding off a blow. But as he suddenly appeared before her, reaching up to caress her hair, her moment of vulnerability passed.

Fast as lightning, Eric found the muzzle of her Beretta 9mm shoved under his ribs. "Back up," she demanded.

Eric sneered at the gun, hiding the fact that he was _very _surprised by her speed. Where had it come from? The rumors were true, it appeared. "I could have your throat before you pull the trigger."

"Think so?"

He wasn't sure, actually, but liked to think so if for anything, ego's sake.

"You know bullets won't harm me. I'm too old for such things."

"Actually, this is loaded with silver plated hollow tips. They will make a very big, very painful hole, that will heal _very _slowly."

"Sounds expensive."

"Uncle Sam's dime. _Your _tax dollars at work."

Slowly, Eric backed away, that infuriating grin in place. The one he wore when he didn't quite have a handle on the situation yet, but he intended to bend the room to his will shortly.

It was a mask, and she knew it.

So, she really was armed and dangerous now.

How _delightful. _

**A/N: A bit different flavor for Sookie, but I hope you enjoyed. More to come! **


	2. Stolen Kisses, Stolen Time

**Chapter 2**

Turned out, Sookie Stackhouse was just full of surprises. For all his experience in this world, Eric never could have predicted the events to come in the next few days. Never would have guessed he would be _helping _a vampire slayer hunt one of his own kind.

Slayers with Federal Marshall status were the U.S. Government's answer to growing problems with legal vampirism. Yes, representation with taxation and all that, but what happened when the undead got a little out of line? Washington didn't exactly trust the vampire lawyers' promises to take care of their own kind, and allowing a party outside the justice system deal with vampire outlaws smacked a bit too much of vigilantism for comfort in Washington.

Ergo, a new kind of law enforcement came into play.

Needless to say, the mortality rate was high.

But there were vampire slayers, and there were _vampire slayers. _Turns out his little Sookie made the latter category. Cliché's aside, she was _born _for this. The telepathy had always puzzled Eric; at times he thought he'd tasted fey in her blood, but _not quite_. Turns out reading minds was only an early symptom, not a diagnosis in itself.

Sookie was _dhampir_. Human, but resistant to glamour, possessing great strength, and speed, and accelerated healing. Still, all this did not make her invincible. Over the long years Eric had met two dhampirs, and had killed them both, as was his duty according to vampire law.

But with legality came complications, and the rules were changing.

Eric doubted he could harm her at any rate, whether the Authority demanded it of him or not. A completely unfair advantage, for she seemed more than willing to drive a stake through his heart.

Left over anger from a decade old misunderstanding.

He never thought there would be a chance for reconciliation. She'd proved far too stubborn to listen to reason before. Never returned his calls, refused to invite him in when he pleaded beneath her window for an open ear. In the end ego betrayed them both, and Eric gave up on her.

She moved away to New Orleans, away from the farmhouse that held too many memories to bear, and into a new life. Without him.

Eric growled for the pang that stabbed at him, somewhere between his heart and his soul. She'd ambushed him then, with her sweetness, slipped in the back door while he wasn't looking. In his world of grey she'd brought color, and life, and all the things he'd cut out centuries ago because they made him weak.

It had felt so _good _to let go.

In the end, he paid the price for it.  
And he was still paying, apparently, for here he was, searching for a vampire with one fang, who was ambushing couples parking in the woods, killing them savagely. It was bad for business on both sides, really. Not the sort of thing he could allow in his area. Sookie knew this, and for the sake of saving lives alone, swallowed her temper and ego to appeal to his resources to find the bastard. He couldn't help but admire her nobility, even if it drove him to distraction.

Forensics had found the broken fang in the last victim, which he found curious. It was no normal thing for a vampire to lose a fang, even amidst intense savagery.

Honestly, savagery was an activity his kind _excelled _at.

Which led Eric, vampire detective, to run a line of inquiry to the Magister. The ex-inquisitioner retained a fondness for tortures centering around the fang, and Eric couldn't help but wonder if some punishment hadn't knocked one loose, so to speak, and left a disgruntled vampire half-mad. The Viking found out one of the most recent victims of the Magister's justice had been convicted of raping another vampire's bonded-on one of his more creative nights, instead of simply putting the perp to death, the Magister ordered him castrated with silver.

In other words, _that shit don't grow back. _

Eric couldn't help but think that he too would be driven to jealously slaughter those who could still enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, after such a sentence.

As the sheriff approached the coven house where the eunuch lived, he sensed something amiss. Violence in the air, the scent of blood heavy on the breeze. Eric raced forward to find a slaughterhouse, beginning with the front porch. A vampire body lay sprawled across the front steps, its head kicked several feet away, a surprised expression staring out.

Amidst blood, there also lingered the scent of Sookie.

But all remained far too quiet.

He followed the trail of blood, passing three more vampires gone to meet their final death.

Apparently, Marshall Stackhouse boasted a certain proficiency with a sword as well as a gun.

Dread filled his heart as Eric walked on. For amidst the vampire blood, he suddenly sensed the warm, heady notes of human blood as well.

Dhampir blood.

Eric raced forward, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in the back bedroom of the coven house. There was Marshall the eunuch, with a sword through his heart, but still twitching minutely. If he could dislodge the sword, he could yet live, and for that Eric jerked it loose, beheading the twisted vampire with a single skillful blow.

And the sight that truly alarmed him, Sookie lay in a twisted pile across the room, covered in blood. Far too much of her own. A dent in the wall above her told the story of a vampire slayer being pitched across the room with the force of a wrecking ball, and the blow alone would have killed a normal human.

Eric knelt beside Sookie, and knew that though she had not died immediately on impact, she would pass soon without his help. He could sense it in the way only a creature who dealt so closely with life and death every night could. Eric pulled her fragile body up onto his lap, and a thousand memories of better nights crashed over him like a ton of bricks. Long nights upon soft sheets, two lovers stranded happily on the island that was their bed.

Stolen kisses, and stolen time.

She would be furious, he knew, as he tore open his wrist with fangs. His ancient blood poured out to add to the medley upon her.

She might even try to kill him.

He was willing to take the risk. It was the only way she could live, and Eric couldn't stand the thought of a world without Sookie Stackhouse in it. Even if she was not for him.

But this time, she _would _be for him. He thought this without joy for intrigue. The victory came without a sense of triumph. As he fed her his blood, stroking her throat to coax an unconscious Sookie to swallow, a near crippling sorrow filled the Viking vampire. There would be no more lies between them, and the truth could drive them mad.

Eric bowed his head as he felt the bond take hold. As his ancient blood did its work, repairing fragile human flesh, his magic filled her every nook and cranny, every vein and the marrow of her bones.

Lifting the vampire slayer as though she weighed no more than a feather, Eric held her close, and exited the house, taking to the air. He left the mess for the sunlight, for he had more important matters to attend to.

No more secrets between them, he mused as the wind whipped at his hair.

This night marked the third time Sookie Stackhouse knew his blood.

_Bonded_.

Perhaps there was _a little _triumph in it, he dared admit, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. But mostly, he felt apprehension for the moment when the tempest known as Sookie opened her eyes once more.

It was shaping up to be a _long _night.

**A/N: In the words of sookie…you want more? Lol. A huge thank you to everyone who left a review, I can't convey how much I appreciate the courtesy!**


	3. Escape

**Chapter 3: **

_ A tapping at the window stirred Sookie from a restless sleep. Vision fogged by dreams, she looked up from her pillow to see a very large, very blond and very beautiful vampire perching precariously upon her window sill. Blinking several times did not clear this strange image from her eyes; it was no mirage. _

_ "What are you doing here?" she demanded, fumbling with the window, finally throwing it open to the hot summer air. _

_ He flashed a melting smile; it was a bright and beautiful thing. A smile that seemed just for her. _

_ Just for her, he would hold nothing back, it seemed to whisper, and more and more she was wanting _everything _that curl of lips promised. _

_ "I came for you, of course. May I enter?"_

_ Sookie bit her lip nervously. He acted with the manners of a gentleman, and there was the illusion that she retained control of the situation. But always with this ancient vampire, she couldn't help but feel like she was merely a chess piece upon his board without even knowing it. _

_ That at any moment she could lose everything to him. _

_ That she might even do it with a smile. _

_ But he was helping her find her brother, who had gone missing almost two months ago. The Bontemps police department had proved inadequate in their efforts, fantastically incompetent, and disinterested besides. She'd gone to the vampire Sheriff on a desperate lark-he'd seemed to like her, on her first and only visit to Fangtasia-and she had no one else to turn to. _

_ "You can come in."_

_ The vampire swung long legs over the threshold, and sat in the window, framed in a halo of moonlight. Something ancient and primal glinted in his eyes, and Sookie's heart skipped a beat. Surely with one look, he knew everything about her, inside and out?_

_ "My Gran's asleep down the hall," Sookie whispered. _

_ "And she will stay that way," Eric assured her, holding out a hand. Sookie paused, eyeing the huge paw, and she suddenly found it hard to breath. Every fiber in her being _burned _to take that hand. They'd been dancing around each other for some time now. But for every two steps forward the vampire took, Sookie only retreated one in her attraction. _

_ He was bound to catch her eventually. _

_ Finally, she slid her small hand into his, and his grasp completely engulfed it. She marveled at the strength within, the length of his fingers wrapped about hers. She hardly noticed when he pulled her gently forward, until she stood between the cradle of his legs. Even sitting, he practically towered over her. _

_ "My beautiful little Sookie," he sighed, gently caressing the side of her face. This vampire who had lived a millennium, who must have beheld everything under the sun at one time or another with those ancient blue eyes, regarded her as though she were something rare and new to him. Sookie's heart swelled to bursting as he explored her features, tracing her eyebrows, the line of her nose, the round of her cheeks and the swell of her lower lip with a feather light touch. _

_ Eric cradled her head between his two large hands, held her as though she were a precious antique. The last of her kind, fragile and delicate. The brush of lips came soft as silk, gentle as spring. Slowly he explored her mouth, with only the lightest hint of tongue parting her lips. Sookie quivered in the madness of it all; she'd never wanted anything so completely. Sensing her need, Eric pulled back, a slow smile playing over his well formed lips. _

_ He was perfection, formed in the image of the Gods. Sookie couldn't fathom what he was doing here, in her room._

_ As though to answer, Eric's hands trailed down her body, resting upon her waist. His thumbs traced patterns across her skin that inspired an almost infuriating weakness in her knees, and Sookie's hands fisted upon his chest in frustration. The tension coiled within her, taut as a spring, even as she didn't _exactly _know what it was she wanted from him. She'd never come so close to _anyone _before, their thoughts always ruined it. But Eric's mind was blessedly quiet before her. His intentions for her burned in his eyes, but not as a running dialogue from his mind to hers. _

_ Eric sensed her weakness, and happily wrapped his strong arms about her, pulling her closer still. No more space separated them as he held her, and Sookie knew a certain unidentifiable relief for it. "I've never done this before," she admitted as the vampire kissed her ear, her neck, pulling a shudder from her body as though she were a musical instrument he'd always known how to play. _

_ Blond eyebrows shot sky high at the admission, and Sookie felt certain he would bolt now. Would want nothing to do with a virgin. _

_ But his smile was the sun after a long and fearsome storm. He was her warmth and life, as he said, "Then I am honored to be your first, Sookie Stackhouse. The men in this town are obviously fools."_

_ She certainly couldn't argue with _that.

_The vampire gathered her in his arms, carrying her to the bed as a bride. He lay her down gently, taking only a moment to remove his shirt, before crawling over her with all the terrible beauty of a great cat on the hunt. She watched the muscles play beneath his pale skin, fascinated by the unearthly perfection of him. "Can happiness like this ever last?" she asked, trailing fingertips down the expanse of his torso, over the curves of his biceps. _

_ Eric settled down atop her, their curves and hollows matching like a puzzle carved long ago by fate. He smoothed the hair away from her face, tilting his head thoughtfully. _

_ "No, lover, not at all," he finally answered. Fangs fell with the sound of a bared switchblade, and Sookie screamed as he fell upon her, savaging her neck. _

Sookie awoke with tears filling her eyes. Always, the same dream of Eric haunted her. A near faithful replay in her mind up until the end, of the way he'd taken her so gently, became her first lover with the assurance of someone who knew he'd always belonged in her bed.

By her side.

Before all hell broke loose, and she found the monster beneath the façade of a man.

Reality slowly returned to Sookie, as sleep and the emotional pain of the dream lifting like a fog. She realized she lay in an unfamiliar bed, clad in a nightgown that did not belong to her.

But what alarmed her most was the weight of a muscular arm wrapped about her waist, holding her flush against a long body she knew all too well. Once, being spooned by Eric filled her with the utmost sense of safety and contentment, but now she only saw red.

She threw off his arm, rolling away from the vampire's grasp.

Even in her fury, she knew he let her go.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Eric sighed, his expression suggesting boredom as he rolled on his back, propping his head up with one arm. She tried like hell to ignore the glory of the view, and the way just the sight of him tugged upon strings tied between her libido and her heart. "Pity. You're so sweet, while you're sleeping."

Sookie's eyes darted about the room, taking in her surroundings. She realized it was Eric's room, his personal living quarters.

Only the bed had changed, and she had an inkling of why. She'd been the only human he ever allowed in his lair. His daytime resting place. She wondered if he couldn't stand to sleep in it anymore, after she'd left, and the sentiment almost touched her.

Almost.

But she couldn't think about that. She knew, if this was Eric's bedroom, that they were deep underground, beneath the house he kept in the woods north of Shreveport.

It wouldn't be an easy escape.

**A/N: A huge huge HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed, you motivate me and make my day!**


	4. The Tightrope and the Noose

**Chapter 4:**

"You didn't answer my question."

Eric paid her a wicked smile that left her conflicted as hell. Once, she'd wanted everything that smile promised. Now, she knew exactly what he was, what he was capable of.

How was it then, that she still wanted to crawl back into bed with him?

"I was saving your life, Sookie, but now that I've succeeded at that, I'm not quite sure what to do with you."

Sookie vaguely remembered her fight with Marshall. All the blood. Stabbing him through the heart, and still he threw her across the room. That was the last thing she remembered. The dreadful feeling of powerlessness, floating through the air with nothing to stop her fall but a brick wall.

If she'd crashed into a brick wall though, she certainly didn't feel like it. There were no bruises, no cuts, no abrasions.

Sookie felt good as new, and suddenly terrified for it.

"What have you done?" she asked quietly, searching her arms for some sign of salvation. Some mark of her battle in the coven house. But none remained; her skin was smooth and flawless. It looked healthier than normal, really. Almost glowing.

"You know," Eric answered, just as hushed. Inwardly he braced himself, as much as anyone ever can, who is fool enough to remain in the path of a hurricane.

Sookie gritted her teeth. Anger would carry her through this disaster. This violation of her free will. Anger was her go-to emotion these days, when her world turned upside down. It hadn't always been so, but she'd changed since last Eric knew her.

She adapted to survive.

Even he could respect that.

"How fucking dare you," Sookie hissed. Her hands clenched into fists, and instinctually she searched the room for something that would be useful as a weapon. Nothing came to light, and she wondered if Eric had purposefully cleared out everything of a pointy or blunt nature out before she woke.

Eric shook his head. "You were dying, Sookie. You were dying in my arms, and I couldn't…" His voice trailed off, adding more to the thousands of words between them left unsaid. They hung above them as a dark cloud, waiting to bring the thunder and lightning.

"You should have let me die!"

Eric rolled his eyes at her, and her blood boiled for it.

How dare he dismiss her?

She hated the high handed actions of vampires; how they saw fit to manipulate mortals lives as they pleased, simply because they had lived so long, and felt certain they knew best. Felt certain they had a right.

Once, as a younger woman, naïve girl that she was, she'd found it comforting. That Eric had _answers, _when she felt lost. That he was the sort of man that knew _what to do _in any sort of situation.

But now, it only infuriated her. She made her own path now. She needed _no one _to decide for her.

"There are worse fates, than being bound to me, Sookie Stackhouse. Be grateful for the life you've been given."

"I can't imagine anything _worse_, actually, than being chained metaphysically to a filthy vampire like you."

Eric's expression darkened, and she could feel his anger rising to match hers through the bond. It was the strangest feeling, almost like another skin beneath her own. She could feel him, _know _him, and did not fancy the idea at all.

"Why, Sookie? Why do you hate me with such _voracity_? I have done nothing to deserve this."

The storm clouds gathered upon Sookie's expression, the lightning flashing in her eyes.

"You know fucking well why."

"I know you've been lying to yourself all this time, about me. I have my theories."

"I just bet you do."

The vampire slayer didn't seem interested, but as he narrowed his eyes, the vampire decided _that _night, she would finally listen.

He remembered the girl that had come to him, ten years ago. Frightened but brave, she'd waltzed back into his bar, without a single soul to accompany her. He remembered her from her first visit, with a group of curious friends. They'd flirted briefly, just enough to make him hope she would come back, even as he suspected it wouldn't be so good for him.

He'd bought her a drink but disappeared before anything more could come of it.

Something about her unsettled him; he'd had the feeling that she could turn his world on its head with just a bat of those cornflower blue eyes. With a whispered word.

It was an unheard of feeling for Eric, but little did he know.

That second night, in a dress white as fresh snow, she'd positively glowed against the tiresome gloom. He'd regarded her amusedly as she came to stand before him, clasping her hands nervously behind her. Ever the lady.

_Yes? _he'd asked. He couldn't help but acknowledge her, its was all too strange not to investigate. This pretty girl in a sundress, gazing at him expectantly with such large blue eyes. It was damn near surreal.

_Mr. Eric Northman?_

_ I am. _

She'd bit her lip in such an enticing way, gathering her words. _I hear you're a Sheriff?_

He'd weighed her with a penetrating gaze that sent most mortals scrambling, but she only lifted her chin defiantly, standing strong against his scrutiny. There was something different about this one, he'd immediately known, and it promised to break the tedium of his usual routines in podunk northern Louisiana.

She didn't respond to his glamour. His power parted around her, as a rock in a stream.

So very interesting.

_That I am. And you are?_

_ Sookie Stackhouse, sir. And I was hoping you could help me. _

Most women wanted sex from Eric. Blood. Oblivion. Money. But the fact that this young lady from a backwater called Bontemps had the audacity to ask for his _help_ as a sheriff, an officer of the law, albeit vampire law, charmed Eric somehow. It was refreshing, to say the least. Apparently her ne'er do well brother had disappeared off the face of the earth, and the bumbling authorities in Bontemps proved useless.

_What makes you think I would be much better? _he'd asked, and received his second hint of the rare gift the girl possessed.

_I can sense it. I can feel your…strength, the weight of your experience. I have no one else to turn to, Mr. Northman. Please help me?_

Usually at this point of an exchange, he would ask, _What's in it for me? _He would prod, push buttons, test just how far he could go. Demand a sexual favor, just to see what kind of woman he was dealing with.

If they agreed, he would bed them, but never respect them.

If they refused, he usually would too, for his own gratification.

But not this one. This one would be different, he knew immediately, because the only thing he found he wanted was to win a smile like the one she'd flashed him the night before.

That in itself should have been his warning. His sign, to leave this one be.

Women had always been a weakness of his, even as a mortal man.

Even now, he felt that weakness, watching Sookie standing in the center of his bedroom, fists clenched angrily, jaw set in a sharp line. She'd paid him insults most mortals would die for, yet still he indulged her. He still couldn't shake her from his system, and it was an infuriating thing.

His voice came quietly, yet somehow the words seemed to reverberate through the room, penetrating the quiet like a gunshot. "I didn't kill your grandmother, Sookie. I know you blame me for her loss, but I had nothing to do with it."

Eric thought back on the scene he'd walked into, in the quiet little farmhouse on a fateful August night. Adele Stackhouse's blood pooled in the kitchen, smeared through the hall. Her broken body left to rest in a heap of limbs upon the front porch. It had been a grisly sight Sookie chanced upon, Eric covered in Adele's blood.

He'd gathered the old woman in his arms, hoping a chance still remained for revival. But she'd been well and truly gone, long before he hit the scene.

Sookie never really gave him a chance to explain, after that.

The rest was history.

Sookie in turn raised an eyebrow, disdain written clearly across her features. She sneered as she imparted, "I know you didn't kill Gran, Eric. If you had, I would have sought my vengeance long ago."

"You couldn't kill me, Sookie."

"Maybe I would have died trying. Maybe I would have succeeded. Fact of the matter is, I killed Bill Compton about five years ago."

What she didn't tell was that the vampire had practically let her do it. The guilt of a thousand bloody crimes had been eating away at William, and he welcomed a final release with open arms.

She'd been more than happy to oblige him.

"Then why…" For a split second, all the surprise, and all the pain that ripped through Eric's soul lay bare to view upon his face, in his eyes, before he reined in his outward emotions. Anger was the best he could do; apathy at that point simply was not an option.

Eric seemed too pole-axed for speech, so Sookie obligingly filled the charged silence between them. "I asked you to help me find my brother, Eric. And you did. You found him, and chained him up in your basement, and _tortured _him for at least a month! All the while leading me on, making me think he was still out there, somewhere, while you took your sweet time in seducing me. You made me love you, while…"

Eric's face fell at the accusation. Any one else before him, and he would have denied it to the ground.

But she knew all too well. Skewed as it was, he considered it a sort of gift, that he would not lie to her. Perhaps it was out of respect for what they'd shared, long ago. What they'd been to each other, and what could have been.

Chained Jason up in his basement for a month?

Well, maybe, but only a little…

The brat had deserved it, a thousand times over.

Sookie turned from him, unable to look him in the eye. Suddenly he appeared behind her, lifting large hands to rest upon her shoulders, wishing he could comfort her. Wishing she could expel some of this fury pent up inside. It would eat her alive, he knew, if she let it boil on.

She turned suddenly, striking him in the chest with such force he stumbled backwards. "Don't you _dare _touch me, Eric Northman!"

He repressed a snarl, muscles corded with tension in his neck and arms.

His voice came low and deadly, a tone most would do well to be wary of. "Your brother kidnapped one of my vampires, Sookie, with his V-addicted friends. He kept Bill Compton chained in your Grandmother's cellar for months, drinking from him. I had to find out what they'd done with Bill. I did what I had to do."

Bill had been chained in the cellar, and when an ever compassionate Adele Stackhouse found the emaciated vampire, naturally she'd freed him. Her last act of mercy, for Bill had been too far gone to stop himself from draining Adele, savagely. It was the aftermath Eric had found, and felt so certain he'd been blamed for.

"You didn't have to torture him. You should have told me the moment you had him."

A cold laugh escaped Eric. "That pathetic sibling of yours couldn't imagine the true horror of real torture, Sookie. Scared him, yes I did, but I was exceedingly gentle compared to what he deserved."

"Go to hell!"

Eric grabbed Sookie, and she could not fight his grip this time. He lifted her to her tiptoes, fingers digging into her arms with enough force to leave bruises. The vampire's eyes bore into hers with all the intensity of an Artic storm. "I saved your brother's life! Instead of killing him, as my duty as Sheriff dictated, or turning him over to the Magister, a true master of torture, I allowed your human authorities to deal with him. It was a gentle sentence, Sookie, and I did it for _you_."

Jason was still in jail, in fact, and physically in one piece.

Mentally, was a completely different matter.

Something had broken inside Jason Stackhouse, and Sookie had always assumed it was torture that left him a shade of the fun-loving man he once was.

She'd seen things in his head, images, though broken ones. A drippy basement, filled with chains and shadows thick as tar. And Eric, towering as a bear, roaring in his fury, fangs drawn and death flashing in his eyes. Those were the images that frightened her most in Jason's mind. That haunted her. The monster beneath the façade she knew as her handsome, clever vampire sheriff.

Pain burned in her arms, but Sookie would be damned if she would admit Eric was hurting her.

But he seemed to remember of his own accord the fragility of her mortal flesh. Eric lowered her back to her feet, releasing her slowly. Taking a deep breath, Sookie stepped away, wrapping her own arms around herself.

"You broke his mind," she accused quietly, shaking her head, over and over.

She didn't sound so certain anymore.

"No, lover," he answered gently. "The V broke his mind. He drank too much, and it drove him mad."

It was the reason drawing a true confession took so long. Jason had been too high to be coherent. It took weeks for the overcooked addict to come down from the blood.

And maybe, in a dark corner of his heart, he'd schemed to buy himself more time with Sookie.

Things had just been going _so _well.

"I don't believe you."

Her protest came meek, without conviction.

She didn't know what she believed anymore.

But the vampire was looking at her with an expression she didn't quite think he could fake. It was a mixture of regret and longing so human, that were she not so prideful she would have gone to him. As it was, however, she went in the exact opposite direction, backpedaling towards the door.

With sad eyes he watched her go.

In a perfect world, the truth could have set them free. But truth could be just as damning as fiction. Just as painful.

Ego was the true enemy, and both possessed more than their share.

"Am I your prisoner now?" she asked, pressing her palm to the door.

Eric wanted to say _yes_. He wanted to keep her with him, hold her there in his bedroom until she loved him once more.

"No, Sookie."

He died a little inside, knowing once more he would have to let her go.

"Then let me go, Eric. Thank you for saving my life. But I want to go now."

"Fine. Tomorrow."

Her brow furrowed in response.

"No. Now."

"It's almost dawn," he protested, winning a cynical laugh from the vampire slayer. "You know we're in the middle of nowhere. What are you going to do? Walk back to town? Miles and miles in bare feet and a nightgown?"

"So naturally, I have to spend the night with you, here, until the sun sets again. Devious bastard."

With a snarl, Eric unlocked the door, swinging it open violently. With a wave of his arm he invited her to step outside the bedroom. "Go anywhere you like, Sookie. You can sleep on the floor, for all I care."

Head held high, Sookie crossed the threshold, but it was the roll of her eyes that broke him. The bond burned in his veins, demanded that he take her, press her skin to his for the pure sake of _relief. _He could no longer ignore this desire, and so the vampire grabbed her up once more, one long arm wrapping about her waist, pulling her flush against him. His mouth sought hers with the tenacity of a heat seeking missile, and claimed her with all the fury of a wildfire. She pushed against him for a moment, struggled for two, before succumbing to the demands of his lips upon hers. They battled for territory, tongues exploring the fine line between passion and violence. Sookie's hand fisted in his hair, nails digging into his shoulder enough to draw blood as she sought some hold on reality amidst the madness between them.

He released her as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, and she stumbled just a bit on legs unsure of the ground beneath them. Her eyebrows shot sky high as she watched him close the door in her face. But the lock did not click into place, almost as though he dared her to join him once more.

To admit that she wanted him, and get it over with.

"Smug bastard," she snarled.

On the other side of the door, Eric leaned upon one arm, eyes pressed closed as he fought to rein in every part of him that demanded he grab her up again. Drag her to the bed, and show her whose body belonged to whom. A fine tremor ran through him, a painful ache. He listened carefully, and only as he heard her pad to the spare bedroom, locking the door behind her, did he allow himself to relax just a little.

Sheriff Northman slid to the floor, arms wrapped around his knees. Only Sookie could make him feel this way. Filled with _doubt_-only she could make him question himself, and the life he'd built for himself.

Only then did the full ramifications of his actions hit him. He'd blood bonded a _dhampir_-a creature vampire law demanded he kill on sight.

If the Magister knew, it would be the end of him.

Yet somehow he knew also, that the end of Sookie would be the end of him.

The noose was practically looped around his neck already, he thought with a defiant laugh. And he balanced upon a tightrope. A misstep to either side would be his undoing, but he would do it gladly. Perhaps he didn't have to lose her again after all, if the marks on his back were any indication of the feelings she still kept bottled up inside. His shapely lips, swollen from their torrid kiss, still tasted of her. Hungrily, he licked them.

Tomorrow was another night.

Tomorrow could bring anything.

The vampire collapsed into bed, and as his eyes slipped closed, he willed tomorrow to come more quickly.

**A/N: I have to thank everyone for their wonderful responses to this story, I appreciate it ever so much!**


	5. Do Your Worst

**Chapter 5**

True to his word, Eric let Sookie go without a fight. She greeted him the next night with a demeanor colder than ice, and he knew better than to ask anything of her. Through the bond she felt his need tug at the deepest rooms of her heart, but she would not be swayed.

The job was done, and she returned to New Orleans, hoping to forget any of it ever happened. Hoping to God the burning she felt beneath her skin would fade and disappear with time. She could be stubborn. She was the most bull-headed person she knew, and with a little luck she hoped it would be enough to see her through.

She knew she ran from her past, that things would never quite be the same, for her own peace of mind. She'd liked having self-righteous indignation on her side, and she could still muster more than her share of it, but the niggling knowledge that Eric wasn't quite the villain she'd thought slowly began to burrow beneath her skin.

But neither, she reminded herself, constantly, was he innocent.

Well, she'd known that all along.

Then, the dreams started. At first, they were only re-iterations of her own torrid memories with the vampire, certain details tweaked here and there, rendering them devastating as possible. But the bond couldn't possibly have been satisfied with just that, and it soon began to spin new scenes of love behind her eyelids, as she tried for deep sleep and failed miserably every night.

It became apparent, even to her co-workers, that something had changed on the job in Bontemps.

She'd still managed to ignore it, until the night it almost got her killed. Lack of sleep was making her sloppy, and so her C.O. sent her on a mandatory sabbatical. "You're the best slayer we've got, Sookie, but you're no good to anyone on a slab."

Basically she had a month to get her shit together, _or else_.

The _or else _was laughable to Sookie, to say the least. Being a vampire slayer for the state of Louisiana gave her a legal avenue, but she was so much more than a badge. Sookie was _dhampir_, a born slayer. She would hunt vampires until the day she died, because somehow the wires in her brain were programmed to do so.

So how did Eric slip through the cracks?

Tricky bastard.

Perhaps against her better judgment, Sookie decided to spend her sabbatical making some peace with her past. She'd let the old farmhouse deteriorate over the years, and Gran would have cried, could she have seen the state of it. No matter that only now could Sookie really even set foot inside without being taken by the urge to run and run and never look back.

_Paint_, she reasoned, surveying the beaten and peeling outside of the house. _This is going to take a lot of paint_.

**III**

Eric sensed her nearness like a shark senses blood in the water. It drove him to swim in circles, crazy with the scent. He stood stubborn until he could simply take no more, the burning longing to be near her a near crippling thing. He followed the feel of her through the night, until his flight brought him to the yard of the old Stackhouse farm. The vampire was surprised to find a fresh coat of paint had been bestowed upon the outside, and it appeared there were improvements being made on the inside as well.

Only a single heartbeat pulsed inside, high up on the second floor, and it was with a sense of deja-vu that he flew up to perch upon Sookie's windowsill. He watched her in her bed, tossing and turning, his name on her lips subsequently as a curse and a prayer. She mumbled something in her sleep, and he felt the barriers that kept him from an unwelcoming home vanish into nothing.

Vaguely wondering if he were signing his own death warrant, Eric found he could not stop himself as he raised the window, slipping inside Sookie's bedroom as he had the first night he'd made love to her. He watched her hungrily as she arched under the covers, an incriminating groan betraying the dreams playing out within a sleeping mind. A fine sheen of sweat beaded upon her forehead, and as Eric reached out to wipe it away she stilled at first contact, her skin feverish to the touch.

Eric dampened his passion enough to survey her with a medical eye, and could see the tired lines about her eyes, the dark circles beneath them. He could feel her exhaustion as though it were his own, and wondered when was the last time the bond allowed her a decent night's rest?

Though he wanted to ravish her, Eric found himself kicking off his shoes, hanging his shirt upon the bedpost, and curling his long body around hers once more. Maybe it would be to his advantage to keep her sleep-deprived, but such a death would be an inglorious thing for a warrior such as her.

Maybe they could make it easy on themselves, and kill each other when she woke up?

Or maybe, just maybe, hell could freeze over, and they would reach an understanding someday.

**III**

Sookie awoke to dazzling rays of sunlight coming through the window, feeling strange in a way she couldn't identify at first.

It had been so _long, _but eventually she realized this was the sensation of a restful night's sleep.

She wondered how she'd gotten it, marveled at the pure unlikely hood. The dreams had become more intense, now that the distance between she and the Sheriff had shortened. Her skin _ached _with a burning desire, an itch she knew only Eric could scratch.

Even now, even after maybe getting some sleep, it still hovered in the background, the voice of need whispering in her ear. Slowly, it was driving her mad, and there had to be a resolution.

Sookie knew of one in particular, and her heart thundered in her chest at the thought of it. She mulled the possibility over breakfast, and her second and third cups of coffee.

It could be a _very _bad idea, she reasoned. But as dusk drew close, the madness grew to an intensity that struck her like a wave, nearly bringing her to her knees.

She couldn't run from it anymore, she realized. One way or another, this had to be resolved.

With a heavy but determined heart, Sookie watched the sun drop below the horizon, and picked up the phone.

**III**

As Eric flew through the air, he reflected back on the way Pam had walked into his office earlier in her black pleather vampire costume, high heels clicking upon the floor. _Eric, you have a booty call. _She'd smirked with the words, but deep down he could sense the hope in her. He'd been pacing like a tiger in a cage for months, and she knew his bond with the vampire slayer was the cause of it.

Sookie had left a simple message. _My house, tonight, 11:00._

Landing on the porch soundlessly, the vampire felt a haunting echo in the sound of his feet upon the floor boards, walking to the front door. When last he'd walked this path, she'd cast him from the circle of light that was her life. Now, he found he hoped against the odds and fate to be admitted again

Eric came prepared for a number of things. Mostly, a fight, but certainly not for the sight that greeted him at the door. Sookie stood before him in a crimson red dress and four inch heels, a slightly bored expression upon her face.

Heart pounding in his chest, Eric schooled his features to convey the same. He sensed that she too felt nervous, and he tried to imagine what she could have in store for him. It was almost too cruel to hope, and he warily began to suspect a trick.

Sookie's breath caught in her chest at the sight of him upon her doormat once more. There he stood, tall and terrible, devastatingly handsome in his dark wash jeans and leather jacket, a sky blue shirt peeking through.

So he'd worn her favorite color, and she'd worn his. She could have accused him of being manipulative, but she played the same game.

"Took you long enough." She covered her fear with hostility.

One blond eyebrow raised high; he'd left as soon as she called, pausing only to change his shirt. Clamoring to her side, eager as a dog. The thought slightly sickened him, but he hoped it would pay off this night.

"Are you going to invite me in?"

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and his, adrenaline roaring through her veins. She didn't realize he'd already won an invitation in her sleep, but he wanted to hear the words from her conscious lips.

Some acknowledgement that she needed him.

This was the moment of truth, in a way, and it scared the hell out of her. Once the words left her lips, would she be able to take them back? For a moment Sookie felt as a child once more, starstruck and wild with desire she didn't quite know what to do with. Cursing herself for cowardice, she squared her shoulders, eyes narrowing slightly. "You can come in." She dropped the invitation casually, turning on her heel to walk into the living room.

With a clenched fist, Eric watched her go. The dress was magnificent, hugging her hourglass figure, sliding against her swaying hips, legs strung taut in those dangerous shoes, that deliciously round derriere the very vision of temptation. She'd come full circle, no longer the innocent girl.

Once, her purity had appealed to him as a novelty, but this too intoxicated him. Now, she was woman as seducer. She was Venus, and he wanted to kneel at her feet and worship. She was Salome, and he longed to rip away all her veils. She was Freya, and Eric would have chosen her hall Sessrumnir over Valhalla to dwell in eternity.

She too could be Judith, he reminded himself, and he resolved to remember to watch his neck, to not fill the role of Holofernes this night.

He fought not to snatch her up immediately; to not bow to the hunter's instinct to claim what he felt his. The bond burned him like a brand over his heart, the pure longing an almost crippling thing, so much emotion tangled in his connection to Sookie.

Just when he thought he would be master of his heart once more, here she was, scrambling his insides. Love and pain, desire and anger, all balled into an inextricable knot within his soul, and at that moment he resented her for making him feel again.

He followed her into the living room with long legged steps, watching her cautiously, suddenly unsure if he would be predator or prey that night. Only she could make him second guess himself this way. She was a chink in his armor, leaving him vulnerable to love and the world.

Sookie crossed her arms, chin jutting in an infuriatingly defiant way.

There was a chasm filled with lost hopes between them, and neither quite felt certain how to cross it. What materials remained to build a bridge? Resentment would not do, nor would fear, or hate, or anger. Only temporarily could desire do the trick; the crossing wouldn't weather a storm. And always, life would bring a storm, the one thing they could count upon in an uncertain world.

"I see you've been here some time," said Eric, noting the state of the house around them. Clean and fresh once more, it must have taken weeks to accomplish. Weeks she'd withstood the ache to be near him, endured the pain stubbornly until finally, here he stood.

But she hadn't broken yet, he noted. Nothing had yet been decided, no solution proposed. Stubborn as she was, he imagined she could send him packing back through the front door, no matter what the price.

"I'm taking a brief sabbatical from New Orleans."

"Oh? Why would that be? I know how you enjoy slaughtering my kind."

"There are just so many of you that need killing," she quipped, eyes cool. But she had not answered his question, and Eric waited with the patience of the undead, still as a stone, seeming able to stand there for ages.

"I think you know why."

Maybe he did.

"I want to hear it from your own lips."

"Fine. I can't sleep. I can't focus on jack shit once the sun goes down, because you poured god knows how much of your blood down my throat, against my will."

"I saved your life."

"We've already had this conversation. I would have preferred you to let me die." She sighed, looking to the darkened window, the mantle, the chair. Anywhere but his eyes.

"Do you have a death wish, Sookie? You used to love life. You were so brilliant, before. Not a thing could quash your light for long."

Sookie's face immediately fell before she could catch her stumble; she knew she'd fallen far from her former self, and sometimes she even missed her innocence. But for some reason, the knowledge that she could no longer lighten a room simply by entering it cut her more deeply than she imagined it could. She looked back to him, blue-gray eyes suddenly flashing as bared steel. "I'm _dhampir_, Eric," she said sharply. "I accepted the fact long ago that I'm not going to live to see fifty."

Eric knew that he'd hurt her, and immediately wished he could take back the barb. He wished he could take back lots of things, with Sookie.

As man who lived by his sword centuries ago, he understood all too well this fatalistic sentiment. Only a warrior who accepted death's inevitability could fight with all his life. "I once thought the same thing, Sookie. But here I am."

By the narrowing of her eyes, it did not seem to please Sookie in the least. "Yes, here you are." In truth, inside she warred with herself.

"Perhaps instead of brandishing blame and arguing to no productive end, we could address the problem at hand?"

The vampire slayer smiled grimly. "Fine. I asked you here to propose a solution." Eric's lips curled wickedly with the thought of such a solution; by the looks of her dress, he imagined it could only be something _quite_ interesting for them both.

"I'm all ears, lover."

Sookie gave a curt nod towards the couch, and something changed in her once more. Her confidence returned ten-fold; a certainty returning to her demeanor. "Have a seat."

Curious, Eric slowly crossed the room, eyes never leaving Sookie in the way one watches a predator nearby. Cautious, even while taken by its savage beauty.

The vampire slayer sauntered across the room to stand before him, feet spread, hands on her hips. "Maybe I accept that you did the best you could for Jason," she began. "I know he was a scoundrel and an addict and up to no good. But he was still my brother, and you kept the truth from me for a very long time."

"I regret that now," he honestly imparted.

"Do you?" The vampire slayer raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him in the least.

"How can I convince you?"

The corner of Sookie's full red lips pulled up in a half smile.

"You can give me the reins."

Eric's eyebrows raised high. Did she mean what he thought she meant?

"In what way?"

"Put your arms up on the back of the couch."

Eric hesitated for a moment, before slowly complying to her wish, his long arms spread out to either side of him. "You aren't going to crucify me, are you?"

"Hmm. Tempting, but too messy. This is the deal, Eric. Your hands stay there, until I say otherwise. If you move them, I will stop. I will revoke your invitation to this house, and I will fight the bond until I die or go mad on principle."

"Stop what?" It seemed an important question to ask, before making any lasting agreements.

Sookie lifted her skirt slightly, straddling his lap, and Eric could not suppress a groan as her delicious weight settled down upon him. On instinct, his hands lifted, intent on caressing those sinuous thighs, but the vampire slayer held him down, a hand on either bicep. "Ah ah," she scolded.

A growl of frustration released from deep in Eric's chest; that primal sound, the vibration that shook her to the bone, tightened Sookie's nipples to hardened points beneath her dress. "So your intended plan for me is torture?"

"Not exactly. But I still don't quite trust you, Eric Northman. You frighten me, yet for some reason I trust your word, once you give it. So tell me you agree to my terms."

"Why can I not simply promise not to hurt you?"

Sookie shook her head no. It wouldn't be enough, he could see.

What Sookie Stackhouse required was total surrender, or else she would walk out the door.

He believed she would, utterly and completely.

The thought terrified him, he found. It seemed like the worst possible thing in the world that could possibly befall him, to lose her again, and so at that moment, for the first time in his life with a woman or a man, Eric consented to domination. Maybe there were no shackles, no whips and chains, but the concept remained completely the same.

"Very well," he said quietly. "Do your worst."

Sookie bit her lip apprehensively. She realized at that moment she hadn't expected her plan to work. The thought of Eric Northman submitting to anyone was such a thing of absolute absurdity, she didn't think she would ever live to see the day. What did it mean, that he would, to her?

As she reached out, Sookie's hand trembled slightly, until anchoring itself above Eric's heart. That great muscle beat against his ribcage, a slow but strong thunder, and a slight shudder took her at the memory of the way he'd once loved her. The way she used to sit upon him in this very same way, and the pleasures he would show her, the sweet things he would whisper in her ear. She squeezed shut her eyes, chasing away the memory, as her small hand gripped the fabric of his blue shirt.

When she opened her eyes once more, she found Eric wearing his usual knowing smirk. But she found the light in his eyes did not quite match the arrogance in his smile. In those ice blue orbs burned something raw, something almost fragile, and Sookie's heart clenched for the sight of it.

How dare he? How dare he invoke such deeply-buried longings in her soul, how dare he make her even begin to think he'd ever really loved her? Angrily, Sookie ripped the buttons of his shirt, sending them flying across the room as she bared his chest. How dare he spare her life, so now she could no longer control her longing to be with him? She'd beaten it, before. She'd pushed it down to a dungeon so deep and dark, she felt certain it would never be heard from again.

Apparently, she'd been wrong.

Eric watched the desire, fury, and confusion play across Sookie's features. Her fingers were warm and slid invitingly across the contours of his torso, sending thrills to spider across his nervous system, but the pain in her eyes almost ruined it all.

Ah, but there was sweet physical relief in the skin contact for both of them. This fact could not be denied, and it was the first time since leaving Eric's lair months ago that once more Sookie felt like a healthy human being. There was a niggling fear in the back of her mind, that she would not be able to send Eric away, even if he misbehaved.

As he always did.

It wasn't fair in the least, and the feeling of being trapped only fueled her anger.

"Off," she demanded, tugging at his shirt, and Eric sat up, allowing her to pull it from his shoulders, cooperating in its divestment and returning his hands to their place. Sookie knew she would always be moved by the sight of him, no matter what their circumstance. She felt frozen for several moments, caught upon the vision of that beautiful body that had not changed in the least over the years, still smooth and chiseled in all its pale perfection.

Several moments too long, for Eric, for he pleaded in a whispered hush, "Sookie, _please _touch me."

Awoken from her trance, the vampire slayer adjusted her seat upon his lap, shifting slightly in a way that made him groan once more. His hands burned with the need to grab her up, the desire to tear away the dress, hungry for every inch of her. "Hush," she scolded him, a single finger pressed to his full lips. He startled her by taking that finger into his mouth, sucking greedily, blunt teeth grazing the pad of her finger in a way that sent a jolt straight between her thighs.

He hadn't moved his hands, but she'd said _nothing _against taking an initiative with his mouth.

Sookie's other hand slid into his hair, sending a shiver down his spine before her grip tightened, pulling him back. She gave him no time to complain, for her mouth settled upon his, tasting him hungrily. The kiss was a torrid, furious thing, and she pulled away gasping.

Sometimes vampires could forget the human need for oxygen.

Trailing down the strong line of his jaw, Sookie traced the shell of Eric's ear with her tongue, winning a gasp of approval as she nibbled upon the lobe. She drove him mad with her mouth, kissing and licking the column of his neck, his collarbone, teeth grazing his nipple in a way that made him harden to painful proportions. She could see that he verged on ripping the seams of his designer jeans, but still, she teased him.

As Sookie knelt before him, her tongue delving inside his waistband, Eric's grip upon the back of the couch caused the old wood to creak. "By Odin, you _are_ going to kill me," he sighed, the tendons of his thighs strung taut as her nails grazed them.

"It would serve you right."

The clear metallic _snap _of her fingers freeing the button of his jeans rang throughout the room, and her eyes locked with his as she drew them down his hips and long legs. Eric did not seem to mind being the only one without clothes, though perhaps he felt slightly annoyed.

Lightly, her fingers toyed with the coarse blond hair upon his legs, as she regarded his manhood pensively. It stood proud and tall against his belly, smooth head gleaming with small drops of anticipation. This was what women threw themselves at his feet for? Yes, it was plenty nice, a _gracious plenty_, as her Gran would say. But it wasn't exactly the truth. Amidst sexual satisfaction, she reckoned most women wanted his smile just as much as his cock. They wanted to feel special in Eric's arms. They wanted to mean something to a great power like him.

She'd been dumb enough to fall for it once, she reasoned. How could she judge anyone else for the same folly? She thought of the _despair _clinging to the walls of Fangtasia, the establishment steeped in the stench of human sorrow. In human _longing_, to find someone else to share this dark and lonely world with. She'd glimpsed that darkness from a very young age; solitude was an old friend of hers, she knew all too well.

She'd thought she'd beat the odds in finding Eric, basking in his love, until it all turned out to be a lie. And every relationship since him, paltry as they were in comparison, also ended the same way. At that moment she felt the world outside this house as a vast and overwhelming sea of darkness, a void waiting to chew her up and swallow her whole. Her nails dug slightly into Eric's leg with the thought, and his brow furrowed with concern as he watched her musings of her demons fly across her face.

"What are you thinking, Sookie?"

Her eyes rolled up to meet his, filled with a weight he knew all too well. Put simply, they were years manifest upon the soul, and Sookie seemed to have accumulated far more than her share in the past decade.

A small part of her yearned to confide in him, before pride quickly clamped down on the notion, locking it up tight. "Nothing you need to worry about."

He would have argued, but for her hot mouth encircling the head of his cock killing any intelligible thing he might have said. She chose the perfect distraction, toying with the thick vein with her tongue, pumping him up and down. As he bumped the back of her throat Eric shuddered. "I'm going to come if you don't stop," he confessed in a husky voice, certain Adele's couch would bear the imprints of his large hands forever more.

Sookie drew back, wiping a drop of moisture from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. "Well, we wouldn't want that."

She straddled his lap, and it felt sinfully good to be pressed against him once more, the nagging ache finally subsiding, giving her some peace amidst the passion. Eric's eyebrows lifted with surprise as she ground against him; Sookie was not wearing any form of underwear. "Minx," he sighed, ducking down to lavish kisses upon her neck. Sookie arched against him, and the vampire lost no chance, slicing the laces of the front of her dress with his fangs, nearly freeing her ample bosom. "I want to tear this off of you piece by piece," he growled, taking one breast into his mouth, circling her nipple with his tongue.

"You're hell on a girl's nice clothing." There was hardly any fire in the reprimand, Sookie in total bliss with his mouth upon her.

"Let me use my hands," he demanded, pleaded.

"No."

"My arms hurt."

"Liar."

"Let me take you upstairs."

"What for?"

"So I can make love to you on your large soft bed."

Sookie ground against him once more, her moisture sliding against his hardened length.

"No."

She hovered for a moment above him, before slowly impaling herself upon him, inch by inch. She hadn't forgotten his size, and yet somehow it still surprised her the way he could fill her so completely. Eric's head rocked back, paralyzed for a moment by the pure bliss of her hot tightness all around him.

"Stubborn to the end."

"Frustrated I'm not biting?"

"My affection for you is not bait on a hook, Sookie, if you would give me another chance, I would show you.."

"Isn't it though? Hasn't it always been?"

Eric winced visibly, his eyes narrowed, searching her for sincerity. "Do you really believe that?"

Sookie's small hand tangled in his hair, pulling his gaze back to hers. "This is how it is, Eric," she growled, lifting herself and sliding down once more, spine arching from the sensation. "You claim you saved my life, but the way I see it, you turned me into nothing better than a junkie. And I don't let drug dealers into my bedroom."

Eric's heart dropped at her harsh words.

Would she never forgive him?

The fact that he was nothing more than a booty call to her, while he still loved her so deeply, cut him to his core, and the vampire bared fangs in response. The familiar hot rush of rage filled him, the emotion he chose to hide behind when stony stoicism would not quite do.

"Fine," he snarled, reaching the end of his rope at last. "I try to be tender with you, but you reject me at every turn. You want to play rough?" Fast as lightning, the vampire flipped them upon the couch, twining her two hands in one of his own, holding them fast above her head. His other arm wrapped about her shoulders, holding her close as he drove into her without mercy, once, twice, three times, tearing a moan from the vampire slayer's mouth. Her strong thighs squeezed his hips, pulling him closer.

Through the fog of pleasure she vaguely remembered this was exactly what she feared. Eric breaking her rules, and she too weak to punish him for it. With the last slivers of her will, she drew a breath, forming the words, "I revoke-"

"Kick me out, I dare you," Eric snarled, kissing her roughly. "I will drag you with me and fuck you on your door mat. So what's your choice? Here on the couch, or splinters in that fine little ass of yours?"

Sookie hated it that a part of her loved this savage side of Eric. Despised the fact that the predator in him turned her on.

"You infuriating bastard."

"Pot and the kettle, lover."

He began once more, and no more words were spoken. Piece by piece, he did rip away her dress for spite, slaking the urge to destroy something beautiful in his pain and anger upon the fabric, instead of her. Were Sookie not more than human he would have damaged her, by the heated way he slammed into her depths, bumping against the entrance of her womb. She screamed as she reached orgasm below him, her nails digging into his back and her walls clenching around him pulling the vampire over the edge as well. He came hard, swearing in a language long dead.

Though Sookie could not understand his words, oddly her own thoughts ran along the same lines as he collapsed against her.

_Damn you. I hate you. I love you._

The pair lay in a lifeless tangle for what seemed ages, until Sookie scooted out from beneath him, standing on wobbly legs. Eric watched her with hooded eyes, suddenly wary of her next action.

But the dhampir merely stretched her lithe toned body, eyes sweeping over him briefly before turning her back, walking towards the stairs.

"We'll see how long that lasts," she grumbled to herself, all too aware that Eric would hear.

Eric lay supine across the couch, the piece of furniture not nearly long enough to accommodate his full body. He listened to the sounds of Sookie taking a shower, a painful tightness in his chest, feeling used and rather similar to a chewed up piece of gum she'd just spat out upon the floor.

For once, he felt no desire to join her in the shower that night.

By the time she came back downstairs he was gone, only the scent of their coupling and a soreness between her legs evidence he'd ever been there.

Feeling rotten herself, Sookie curled up upon the couch, inhaling the heady masculine scent of him upon the cushions. She pulled one of Gran's tatty afghans about her shoulders.

Now, she let the darkness come for her, filling her like water rushing through a broken dam, and for the first time in a long time Sookie allowed herself to weep for the life and the vampire she'd lost.

**A/N: Um…I'm baaaack. Hope it was worth the wait? Thank you everyone who's read and reviewed, you're the best!**


	6. Fix

**Chapter 5:**

Two weeks passed, until the dreaded restlessness returned to haunt Sookie's skin. Like the warrior she was, she fought it valiantly. It could not be shot, or stabbed, or blown up, like her usual quarry, though at times flaying herself alive seemed a viable option, to relieve herself of the wild longing weighing upon her.

This night, the vampire hunter decided to run herself to the ground, hoping utter exhaustion would grant her a decent night's rest.

On the note they'd ended on last time, she would be damned if she went crawling back to Eric for a _fix, _this time_._

With night vision that rivaled a vampire's own, Sookie navigated through a wooded trail that looped around the house and linked with her pot-hole ridden driveway. Fixing the drive remained on her to-do list for the house, a continually shortening list, at that. Gran's house looked the best it had since it's heyday, years and years ago.

Another perk of vampire slaying-she lived far from hand to mouth, on a well padded salary.

As her feet flew across the ground, a vision of Eric's lips upon her chest accosted her mind. Gooseflesh raised across her arms, a certain pain above her heart almost flooring her.

Sookie picked herself up from the stumble, pushing herself into a full sprint, a ragged cry thrown out in challenge to the stars above. _I don't need him_, she repeated to herself. Sometimes, she huffed it aloud. She moved so quickly, it seemed a possibility for a moment that she really could outrun her problems.

As the sensory memories assaulted her, Sookie only pushed herself harder. Her limbs shook with the effort, her breath ragged. The vampire slayer got her wish, achieving total distraction, clouding her senses with physical exertion to the point of near oblivion.

The assailant seemed to come out of nowhere, dropping upon her from the sky.

Sookie rolled with the impact, fighting with a speed and reflex she'd never completely understood. She simply _did_, striking out almost blindly, sending her attacker sprawling. But in a moment he was upon her again, relentless as a storm. The dhampir never went _anywhere _unarmed, anymore, and the blade of the silver dagger she'd secreted about her person soon flashed in the moonlight.

But the shadow she battled with would have nothing of it, dodging too cleverly to be cut, too quickly for her to even get a good look at him.

It was not until she lay upon the ground, pinned beneath him and a large hand about her throat, but her blade hovering in position to push home into heart-flesh, that Sookie realized her opponent to be none other than the vampire her vexed her most.

Breaths came heavy, blue eyes glinting fiercely in the moonlight. Both wondered if the other could actually _do _it. End it all in a fit of rage.

"Well?" asked Eric, glancing down to the blade positioned beneath his breastbone. "What will it be?" His grip lightened upon her, fingers caressing her throat, though she was not fooled. In less than a moment, he could rend her to pieces with those large hands.

Sookie's heart thundered in her ears. Though it wouldn't quite kill, a silver knife to the heart would surely incapacitate. The temptation thrummed in her arm to push it home. To be rid of him, once and for all.

With a sadness in his eyes Eric removed his hand from her throat all together, tracing a trail down her collarbone and arm, leaving gooseflesh in his fingers wake. "You won't."

However, something hard glinted in her stare that left the vampire unsure.

A medley of emotions boiled within him, a dangerous concoction of anger and desire and contempt and need. How was it this small blond woman reduced him to _this_? Rolling in the dirt, daring her to kill him just to find some peace.

Sookie seemed frozen, and Eric found he could wait no longer for the answer. Could she destroy him? Daring her, he leaned into the blade, hissing as the point pushed past his shirt, entered his flesh just a fraction, until Sookie finally jerked away.

"God damn it," she cursed, stabbing the knife into the ground. Why couldn't she do it? Why couldn't she have the strength to end this mess once and for all?

There was an answer, that terrified her to the core.

That slowly, her loathing of him was dissipating.

Which infuriated her even more. Her perceived betrayal by Eric had formed the foundation of her new life as a dhampir; the basis of her identity. Who would she be without it?

A hypocrite, for one. What kind of vampire slayer fell in love with a 1000 year old vampire?

The dhampir sat up on her elbows, bringing her closer. Her mouth opened with the intention of hurling some insult, no doubt, but the vampire gave her no chance, his mouth suddenly crashing over hers. "You can't do it," he growled between kisses. "Admit that you can't kill me. Admit that I'm more than just a _fix_."

His hands traveled beneath her top, and even as Sookie arched her back to meet him, reveling in the relief his touch brought to her skin, she snarled, "Believe what you want. If you stop, I promise I _will _kill you."

Furiously, they clashed against each other, ripping clothes and tearing skin with nails and teeth. An outside spectator happening upon them would have beheld an act of violence rather than sex, as they rolled in the grass, each fighting for dominance. Within them their storm howled, electrifying their hearts and rattling their souls.

In the end, Sookie won her place on top, and it was only as they both met their ends, orgasms punctuated with ragged cries that verged on pain, that the pair knew some peace once more.

Limbs heavy as lead, Sookie rolled off Eric and away, reveling in the cool dew of the grass upon her back. Eric tried to draw her into his arms, but Sookie only pushed his hands away. "No," was the only word she could muster, amidst a deep breath.

"You used to like to cuddle afterwards."

She still did, but something inside her wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She would retain that small sliver of dignity, she resolved.

"Don't be such a whiny bitch."

Eric's eyes narrowed in response. The vampire turned his head to her, but his own scathing reply died on his lips as he beheld the sight beside him. Her eyes pressed closed, a single tear ran down either cheek, their trails glistening in the silver light of the moon. He suddenly wanted to kiss those tears away, pull her into his arms, and hold her until Sookie's hardened soul softened once more to him.

But it would do no good, and so he just lay with her upon the grass, surrounded by the night sounds of the insects of the woods, the soft leathery tittering of bats passing overhead, beneath handfuls and handfuls of stars.

Minutes or hours might have passed, until Sookie moved once more, just minutely. Slowly she shifted, reaching out to curl a single finger around one of Eric's own. There were no words between them, only the warmth generated from that small contact spreading across their skin.

Soon, she rose, gathering the tatters that were once her clothes. She did not look at Eric as she dressed, appearing as a raggamuffin in the tattered fabric. Absently, she sang a tune under her breath. A self acknowledged musical null, by her own admission Sookie could not carry a tune in a bucket. But the vampire managed to make out one lyric, a collection of words that chilled him to the marrow of his bones.

_There's a doorway that my heart could never walk through, there's a graveyard full of times I've let you down. *_

Without looking back, Sookie walked back towards her home, limping slightly. Once more she left the vampire disheveled and cold, the scent of her clinging to his skin. Yet this time, a shred of hope burned in his breast, the tiniest ember that he would guard within his heart, cherish carefully as a knight with his lady's kerchief. He'd found she could not kill him, and in that he found possibility at long last.

**A/N: A thousand thank yous to everyone who has read and left a review! Your awesome feedback and insights have really helped me in keeping this story on track!**

***Lyrics from Perfect Lover by Hayes Carll**


	7. Hunting For Redemption

**Chapter 7:**

Sookie quickly burned through her month of absence from New Orleans. She'd felt so certain at the beginning that she would be tearing at the bit to get back to her life of high adventure, slaying vampires.

But on the day she should have packed up her bag and driven back to New Orleans, Sookie stood on her front porch with a cup of coffee to greet the dawn, and decided she couldn't go. There was a tranquility about her farmhouse in the woods at this hour, the mist over the prehistoric trees, the birds singing a thousand joyful songs to greet the day as the sky slowly lightened in the East, that moved her to the core.

The past ten years, Sookie had forgotten what exactly _peace _felt like.

She'd run like hell from her memories tied up in the location, but now she suspected there were a few things Gran could teach her yet. Though perhaps physically Gran had passed, her essence remained in the house, her imprint tied up in every wall, every piece of furniture, every dish and pot and pan. Mornings Sookie cherished most: she could almost have a conversation with her late Grandmother, sitting in the kitchen where they'd shared so many words and so much love.

Before her brother's stupidity sent all their lives to hell.

Yes, her _brother_.

With a shock that morning, Sookie realized she no longer blamed Eric for her life falling to pieces. That maybe he hadn't been a saint, but neither was he the devil of her story.

Too bad he was so _fucking _infuriating.

Thirty days on paper sounded like a long time to address her deepest seated demons, but in the end Sookie discovered the notion to be absolutely absurd. Sookie's C.O. felt certain she'd lost her mind, and hissed and moaned when she called to break the news of her extending her leave.

How long?

She didn't know.

However long it would take.

He'd threatened all sorts of things, but Sookie found nothing he could take from her truly mattered. Money, status, the badge. All rubbish.

She'd become so tied up in death, she herself had forgotten how to live, she realized now.

In the thick of the battle, she'd had no time to think on her life, simply always pushing forward, on to the next case, next vampire, next adventure. But such a life of fast violence took its toll , and now Sookie realized she was tired, and twisted up inside with knots that were killing her slowly.

A rage burned inside her, all the time, and she grew weary of its constant fire eating at her insides. Part of it was simply being dhampir. The berserker potential always kept at a low boil, that allowed her to fight the creatures of the night with such success.

But her dhampirism couldn't account for all her fire. No, not all. Some of it was undeniably and uniquely _hers_, and she'd come to loathe its constant and insistent hold upon her way of dealing with the world.

She would be damned if she sought the help of a shrink, but the vampire slayer allowed herself to hope that just maybe in the stillness of the farm in Bontemps, she could regain a foothold in the world that didn't involve raging against it.

**III**

On the long stretch of highway leading to a certain farmhouse outside of Bontemps, Eric shifted his fire-engine red Audi TT into fifth, baring fangs with the joy of breaking the speed limit to appalling degrees.

What was he doing _driving _to Sookie's house?

In short, they had a _date._

After the months of furious fucking that had passed, the very idea seemed absurd. He'd had her against the wall in the hall, and upon her kitchen table. On the couch of his office, the desk, and the floor. The woods, the railing of the front porch, and even the swing. All encounters were peppered with traded insults, rough kisses, deep scratches and fierce hair pulling.

Sookie had made it clear: if he was to have her body, he would not be allowed to make love. Not once had he seen her bedroom upstairs.

And yet, though outwardly the vampire slayer remained stubborn, there seemed to be a glimmer of change about her. Something so faint in her aura, he could only see it out the corner of his eye, and didn't quite know what to make of it.

Yet.

But the vampire intended to find out.

She'd sauntered into Fangtasia three nights ago, expecting the usual fare, never fathoming that he would deny her what she wanted, even if he was working and business was in full swing. In response, he'd bent her backwards over his bar with the furor of his kiss, hands tangled in golden tresses she'd let loose in a very _very _small concession to his preferences in her appearance.

Some of the women glared, and some of the vampires sneered with disapproval, but most who did not realize her identity, ( _the _Sookie Stackhouse, vampire assassin extraordinaire) gave a howl of approval, catcalls and other suggestions of what the Viking vampire should do to the young lady for their viewing pleasure.

Eric, naturally, ignored them. His world began and ended in the clear blue of Sookie's irises, held fast with the intensity of his own gaze. "We're going to do something different," he'd decreed.

Shakily, she'd drawn a breath, but her words still came with a steadfast confidence. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Before I fuck your brains out this time, we're going on a date."

In truth? He'd expected her to laugh at him, and saunter right back out the door.

Instead, she floored him, the corner of her mouth upturning in a Mona Lisa smile.

"Alright. I'll humor you, Northman. But you better not disappoint."

Only Sookie would dare say such a thing to him, and the wind whipping through his hair with the top down, Eric laughed aloud with the thought.

He thought on many things, daring to draw small fantasies in his mind as he drove.

A motorcycle whipped around him, and he hardly gave it a thought, until the angry flash of brake lights flared in front of the Audi, forcing him to slam on his brakes. Eric cursed, large hand gripping the gearshift in a way that would certainly leave an imprint. Deeply annoyed, he swerved to go around, but the motorcycle wove with him, refusing to let him pass.

The vampire contemplated a multitude of ways to make the driver of the Ducati in front of him sorry, and places to bury a body in the woods alongside the road, until he noticed a tendril of long blond hair escaping out from beneath the beetle-black helmet, whipping in the wind.

Before he could look more closely, the motorcycle was off like a rocket, red tail light a sudden pinprick in the distance.

Eric pulled up in Sookie's driveway, the engine of the Ducati still clicking as it cooled. He could hear the vampire slayer up in her bedroom, dressing quickly for their date. Tunelessly she hummed, and he recognized the clatter of cosmetics, the _pffft _spray of perfume.

As he waited he walked in circles about the bike, inspecting it with lips pulled in a crooked smile of approval.

"It's a Ducati Monster," said Sookie from the porch. "I just bought it yesterday." Eric turned his attention up to her, his breath catching at the sight of her. A short black dress hugged her curves, sharp stiletto heels stabbing at the creaking steps as she descended.

"I did not know you rode motorcycles," he said, expression almost neutral, though he began to salivate as she neared closer.

The vampire caught a whiff of her perfume upon the evening breeze, a scent he recognized as Chanel No. 5. She'd come a long way from fruit-flavored body sprays; at times he mourned the loss of her innocence, the young woman she'd once been. But he found that night he also felt equally intrigued by the woman she'd grown into.

He'd loved her then, and he loved her now.

He'd come to accept the ache within his chest as almost normal, and that within itself alarmed him to no end.

"Are you surprised?"

"A little."

"Hmm." Sookie sauntered up to stand before him, head tilted to meet his hungry gaze. "Well, I do seem to have a penchant for powerful monsters between my thighs."

_A penchant _was not how he would have chosen to describe any of her feelings about him between her legs, up to that point.

But he'd been wrong before.

"Well, this _date _isn't going to finish itself," she quipped, and intrigued, he watched her hip swinging gait as she navigated the gravel to the passenger side of the Audi. Suddenly he appeared at her side, holding open the door for her. She sank down into the black leather seat, looking about the car's interior appreciatively.

"Are you in such a hurry to get it over with?" he asked.

"Maybe not. We could just drive around all night. This is a significant improvement over the Corvette, which was cramped, and smacked _just a little _of red-neckery."

A laugh escaped Eric, a genuine outburst of mirth at her opinionated observation.

Both froze at the sound of it, startled as though by the crack of a gunshot.

Once, such laughter could be heard between them often.

But, since their lives became entangled again, until that moment both Sookie and Eric thought such things to be an animal long extinct.

Against the trill of the cicadas, hearts thundered in the darkness.

Eric reached out to cup Sookie's cheek in his large palm, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek lightly. Slowly, he leaned down towards her, and she watched his approach with wary eyes, memories of the past weighing down upon her. But she did not push him away, as his lips brushed against hers in a hauntingly gentle kiss.

That too was a first, since their strange reunion, and the sensation of their mouths touching without the punctuation of furious passion seemed sweetly alien at the moment.

Sookie watched him silently, until at last Eric came to settle down in the driver's seat beside her. "Where are we going?" she asked, voice barely audible over the breeze.

_Hunting for redemption_ Eric answered in his mind. But aloud, he voiced, "You'll just have to wait and see."

**III**

The night started with dinner at a nice restaurant in Shreveport, a typical but delicious item on a date agenda. Eric watched Sookie eat her way through an expensive cut of beef, medium rare. He found it titillating to watch her slice apart the meat with sure strokes, popping small bites of the bloody flesh into her mouth.

However, it was not until later, that the evening truly began. Eric navigated the Audi down a country road that appeared to have been deserted for longer than Sookie was old, pot holes appearing in the headlights that seemed large enough to devour the car and its occupants whole.

It Eric was worried, he did not show it, a small smile curling his lips as they drove. At long last, they pulled into a flat grassy field, what appeared to once have been a parking lot. "What _is _this place?" asked Sookie, looking around. And then she noticed the hulking if not disheveled screen towering at the opposite end of the clearing. "Are we in an abandoned drive-in?"

"Only _somewhat _abandoned. I own the land."

He'd bought it ten years ago, in anticipation of a special surprise for her.

Then their world fell apart.

He'd never dreamed the opportunity would arise again to use it.

"Stay here," he instructed, disappearing for a moment.

The screen came alight, and Sookie felt a thrill of childish delight, a sensation she'd nearly forgotten. A moment later, he appeared back in the car.

"If my memory serves, I believe this is a favorite of yours."

Sookie raised a cynical eyebrow, though involuntarily, her mouth curled up ever so slightly in a smile. The theme music of _Gone With The Wind _came over the Audi's speakers. Internally, her jaw dropped, but she couldn't quite allow herself to show it.

"So, you bring girls here and ply them with their favorite feature film?" she snarked, rolling her head against the seat to look at Eric.

"No, Sookie, only you. And I can't help but have noticed, you're not a girl anymore."

"Hmm. I feel like an old woman inside, but it's not polite to remind a lady of it."

Eric regarded her with ancient eyes, and Sookie fought the urge to squirm as a specimen under a microscope. "A violent life can take its toll," he finally, and carefully, said. He knew, all too well.

"Yes."

"You're tired." It wasn't a question, and Sookie understood he didn't mean physically.

The slayer looked down at her hands folded upon her lap. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper.

"Then perhaps you should quit while you're ahead."

Sookie narrowed her eyes at the vampire Sheriff. "Perhaps you should mind your own damn business."

Sensing the edge returning to Sookie's tone, Eric decided not to push the issue farther. The evening had gone so well, thus far. It would be a shame to ruin now.

Little did he know, as soon as the harsh words escaped Sookie, she regretted them. Where did all the venom come from? At times she felt as a spectator, watching her impulses push the whole world away in short but irretractable bursts.

The vampire reached into the backseat, producing a small golden Godiva box. "Chocolate?"

Sookie's eyebrows raised high at the offer. Dinner and a movie with gourmet chocolate in the middle of the Louisiana woods with Eric Northman, vampire Sheriff. Could her life get any more absurd?

It began as a tremor, deep in her belly, and then the shaking grew and grew, until she couldn't contain it. Sookie laughed aloud, a joyous peal she herself had not heard in years. She laughed, and laughed, until tears pressed from the corners of her eyes; a floodgate opened in her soul, and she could not contain it any longer.

The sound evoked so many memories in Eric, of the open and loving girl she'd once been, that she still was, deep down. Hidden beneath layer after layer of life's disappointments and fears. His heart fed from the sound, as surely as his body took sustenance from blood, and in that moment he hoped she felt as happy as he.

When the vampire reached over to take her hand, Sookie gave no protest, allowing herself to simply enjoy the contact, her small hand almost lost in his.

**III**

At intermission, Sookie turned to Eric once more, the corner of her mouth curled in a mischievous smile. "Four minutes of intermission. What are we to do with ourselves?"

Eric watched, impressed, as Sookie navigated the center consul, the gear shift, and successfully straddled him. Though he'd already had the seat scooted and tilted back, he hadn't dared hope, even if maybe he'd dreamed.

"Oh, this is _much _better than the Corvette," she repeated, appreciative of the extra room, and the convertible top.

"We managed alright in the corvette," Eric protested, having had no idea she harbored such negative feelings for his late car. It died a fiery death in a wreck, the result of going too fast around a curve in the rain. Eric walked away with a shrug and a few scratches, and purchased the Audi the next day.

A few torrid memories of their time in and on his previous car crossed Eric's mind, before Sookie's words and hands upon his shoulders brought him back to the present.

"Maybe _you _did," she teased, sighing as large hands slid up her thighs, pulling her closer into the cradle of his body. "I seem to remember hitting my head against the roof several times."

Eric glanced up at the blanket of stars above them, thousands more visible out there without light pollution to spoil the view. "No need to worry now." He kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth with languorous but thorough strokes of his tongue. And they went on kissing, until the movie came back on.

No clothes had been ripped, no mothers insulted, no tufts of hair yanked from the scalp.

Eric expected Sookie to crawl back over to her side of the car for the rest of the movie, but the dhampir stayed put, fisting the hem of his designer t-shirt in her hands. "You're missing the show," he teased as she drew his shirt up over his head.

Looking his bare torso up and down with an arched eyebrow, pale flesh sculpted like the statue of David, Sookie shook her head to the contrary. "No I'm not."

Soon after that, Eric might have ripped her dress a _little_, but only out of enthusiasm.

The vampire sheathed inside her, both nearing climax, Sookie tilted her head, exposing a long line of bare neck that Eric pressed wet kisses to, pulling her down further upon him. But she surprised him immensely as her fingers slid into his hair at the back of his head, holding him there. "You can…if you want," she offered between gasps of pleasure.

Just the _thought _of piercing her in that way as well nearly finished Eric. "You're teasing me," he groaned.

"Suit yourself."

Eric found he could barely think amidst the cloud of pleasure of Sookie's warm body all around him. But he also found at that moment he wanted to taste her so very badly, that he could truthfully plead momentary insanity, if he only imagined the invitation. Cradling her head in his hand, he found the sweet spot with his lips, that strong pulsing vein, and bit down.

Sookie cried out, but not in pain, pulling Eric closer.

Her blood filled his mouth, swallow after swallow, a heady and intoxicating rush, the strength of her life coursing through his veins making him feel invincible. The vampire growled appreciatively, the vibrations carrying through his body and into hers. It was not long before Sookie lost herself in the sensation, and the clenching of her most intimate space paired with the cocktail of her blood brought Eric to a hard finish.

Collapsed against his body, Sookie leant her forehead upon his shoulder, as languidly he licked the puncture wounds closed, enjoying every last drop with an expression similar to that which she'd made upon tasting the Godiva chocolates.

At any moment, Eric half expected Sookie to jump up from him, to accuse him of taking something from her she had not offered, or in her usual manner, to refuse any sort of post-coital cuddling.

But she remained in his arms, her breath a tickling sigh against the skin of his neck. He'd turned her limbs to jelly, and she couldn't fathom any sort of movement at the moment.

Several peaceful minutes passed, until the vampire slayer finally shifted. "I'm not sure how to move without making a mess," she confessed, and chuckling softly, Eric reached over into the glove compartment, drawing out a wet wipe. He cleaned her with gentle strokes, the cloth cool and soothing, and Sookie sighed, snuggling into the bend of his neck.

"Hmm. Someone likes that," he mused with pleasure, taking account of every sigh and hitched breath, storing the memories of their frequency and timbre for a lonely night.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but you're quite good at it." Sookie's voice came laden rich with post-orgasmic languor.

"Come home with me, and I'll wash you all over," he offered with hope, thinking of his bathtub that could easily fit the two of them.

Slowly, Sookie sat up to regard him, and his face fell as lazily she shook her head _no_.

It smacked just a bit too much of giving in completely, though looking around, she realized she'd already fallen remarkably far from her original intentions.

She couldn't be sure yet, if she regretted it or not.

After the movie finished, Eric drove her home. They sat in her driveway in silence for a few moments, neither quite sure what sort of note to end the evening upon. Every night before that had been simple; one or the other would simply walk out, eventually.

But now?

"Well, that was unexpectedly lovely, Eric," Sookie finally spoke. "Thank you."

She made to exit the car, but her hand on the door handle, Eric caught her arm.

"Sookie, wait…" A thousand questions burned in his mind, but the most important she read in his eyes.

_ Where did they stand now?_

She had no definite answer. Something inside her finally _let go_, and she didn't know where it would take her, or if tomorrow it would clamp up again. But for now, for the first time in ages, she felt _free_. She wanted to sit with this feeling in solitude. She wanted to poke and prod at it, until she understood its origin and construction.

She found she could feel his longing through the bond, and knew exactly what he wanted, just as she knew she wasn't ready to give it to him. Perhaps he coveted the bedroom upstairs, the room where they'd first made love, but it was still her sanctuary, and Sookie couldn't quite bring herself to give it up.

Gently, she shook her head back and forth. "Not tonight, Eric."

He watched her climb from the car, ascend the steps, and slip through the front door. And heart pounding in her chest, she waited for the Audi's engine to fire, for the vampire to drive away.

He did so on the wings of hope once more. Did _not tonight _mean _maybe later_?

**A/N: As usual, I have to send out a huge thank you to all you readers and reviewers out there! Thank you very much for your support and criticism! **


	8. The Room Where She Dreams

**Chapter 8:**

The call came early in the day, and after a short but profound conversation, Sookie felt certain in the next week, she would die.

Quietly, she contemplated this on a walk through the graveyard across the way, morning dew still clinging to the grass, winking like carelessly dropped diamonds in the morning sunlight.

Once, what seemed like a lifetime ago now, she'd told Eric she would have rather died, than accept a bond to him.

At the time, she'd meant it, whole heartedly.

Death always hovered a very real possibility in her consciousness, but never before had it seemed so very _inevitable_.

So absolutely certain, on the wings of her next assignment.

Yes, she'd been on sabbatical, but recent events led to exception.

For all practical purposes, her C.O. asked her to commit suicide, and they both knew it.

Yet, there was nothing either of them could do. Hands were tied, and fates were signed.

Duty loomed on the horizon.

Sookie knelt before her grandmother's grave, the dew soaking into the knees of her jeans, hands folded in her lap. "Well Gran, this life's been quite a ride," she said softly. Sookie lifted her face to a breeze flowing across the field, taking a moment to listen to the songbirds, before continuing, "Ever since you died, I have stewed in my own rage at the world. For years I've been boiling alive, and didn't even know it. I'm tired, Gran. My _soul _is tired of blood and gore and hate and killing. But now…"

She thought of Eric, the full circle they'd traveled. She'd held him at arm's length so adamantly, but slowly, _very _slowly, her resolve was bending. Somehow, he'd slipped under her skin without the vampire slayer quite knowing when.

"Now, for the first time in ages, I might actually have something worth living for. But it doesn't look like that sort of happiness is in the cards for me. I can't back out from this one. Too many people are counting on me. Innocent people."

She sighed heavily, some weight upon her heart releasing with it, replaced by the dull ache of acceptance.

"I don't want to be a hero anymore," she whispered honestly. "For once, I just want someone else to handle it. I want to sit back, and not have to be the one who bleeds. But it's just not an option."

Sookie sat in the stillness of the morning for more than an hour, and slowly a steady calm anchored itself within her core. This was the life she'd chosen, and she'd had a good run. But now, she'd reached her endgame.

Playing it out was all that remained.

The vampire hunter pushed to her feet, patting Gran's stone lightly. "I'll be seeing you soon, I hope. I love you."

Slowly, she walked back to the house, savoring the sunlight upon her skin, the sounds of the wind in the leaves, and the earthy smells surrounding her ancestral home.

In a moment of absolute clarity, Sookie realized she could live out the rest of her life here in simplicity and happiness, were she not so very doomed.

Her time ran thin, and she decided she would take this last day to live exactly as she wanted, without interference or impositions from the outside world.

Tomorrow, she would head for Mississippi.

Tomorrow, the shit could hit the fan.

But _today_ was a beautiful day, and she decided to claim it for her own.

**III**

In the afternoon, she took a long hot bath, and soaked for two hours, reading one of her favorite mystery novels. A warrior's ablutions, she realized ironically, and emerged feeling strangely at peace.

She listened to her favorite albums of Iron and Wine, Hayes Carll, and Allison Krauss.

She cooked herself an excellent steak, and ate it slowly with a glass of her favorite wine, savoring the flavors upon her tongue, and followed the meal with her favorite dark chocolate. The rich bitter-sweetness slid across her tongue, and she mused it tasted a little bit like life itself.

**III**

Eric approached the front porch, finding Sookie clad in an old white nightgown, a simple yet sweet garment that stirred in the wind as she stood from her seat to greet him. His heart lurched as he recognized it, the very gown she'd worn that fateful first night he'd slipped through her window with the intention of making her his own.

Immediately, he could see the change in her. A certain calm surrounded the vampire slayer, a puzzling tranquility. His heart began to pound in his chest; something was wrong, though he couldn't quite place his finger upon it yet.

"Hi," she said softly, standing a step above him, and still needing to tilt her head to look at him.

His heart broke a little for the small yet warm smile she paid him, and he couldn't say precisely why.

She'd called during the day, requesting his company that night. For the first time, requested, invited, instead of demanded, ordered. Intrigued, of course he'd showed.

Her small hand raised to lightly trace the line of his jaw, cupping his cheek with a tenderness that confused as much as it titillated.

"Sookie-"

She silenced him with a gentle kiss, drawing a small, almost strangled sound from deep in Eric's throat. "Tonight, let's play a game," she sighed against his ear, her body settling into his embrace that night with a familiar grace, as though she knew his fondest dreams, and sought to act upon them. "Let's pretend I just went on a long _long _trip, but you always knew I would be back eventually. Let's pretend my Gran died a natural and peaceful death, and my brother did not fuck over our lives with his selfish blunders."

Eric pulled back to scrutinize her, sharp blue eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher this change in her. Something was missing from her eyes. Still, they glinted with strength, but he realized her stare no longer tensed with _rage_, eyes no longer slit like a rattlesnake's, ready to do battle with the world. He'd never realized how very _tense _she'd been until now, seeing her hold herself with such a sense of peace.

An instinctive tingle of foreboding curled at the base of his spine.

"I do not want fantasy," he declared honestly, his hand covering the entire side of her face with a gentle touch. "I want to occupy a real space in your life, Sookie. I want to put everything behind us, but it would be unwise to pretend it never happened."

"Maybe," she ceded.

Far too easy.

"Something is amiss. I can sense it. Tell me, what's going on."

The vampire slayer paid him a tragic smile, but shook her head, clasping his hands in hers. "No, not now."

"Yes. Now." His voice came barely above a whisper, though he resisted the urge to shake her in his frustration with her stubbornness, even as he knew it would do no good.

"Mr. Northman, won't you come upstairs with me?" she asked, backpedaling a step, pulling upon his hand.

Eric froze upon hearing the invitation.

The coveted _upstairs_, the bedroom he'd wanted to share with her all along.

She dangled it before him in distraction, but also, he sensed, a genuine desire.

Dear Odin, she actually _wanted_ him, he realized. It had seemed he would not live to see the day.

The vampire's heart thundered in his chest, a rare thing in general, yet such a frequent occurrence, when Sookie was near. There was a fragility in her voice that alarmed him. She put on a brave face, and Eric knew all too well her bravery to be genuine. But neither was Sookie stupid; she also feared, and he could feel that faint and cold emotion trickling through their bond. He wanted to know of _what_, but she did not seem inclined to tell him.

She would not tell him, till she was good and ready.

"We will speak of it later," he decreed on a sigh, leaning down to kiss her, the touch of her lips sending a thrill through his every limb. He prickled all over with anticipation coupled with apprehension.

"You'll know, later," she answered enigmatically.

Her words did not bode well, raising an alarm in the Viking's ancient brain, and yet he sensed with wonder that night, she needed him. She needed someone strong to hold on to, and he could not resist nor deny her.

So he allowed her to lead him slowly through the house, stealing languorous kisses as they progressed. Past the kitchen, he made note of the smell of a good meal, the chocolate half eaten, the bottle of wine partly consumed. Though she was not drunk, he could clearly tell, and he did not think the fine alcohol influenced her decision in this in the least. Tempered her ego a bit, perhaps, lowered her inhibitions, but even those, he did not think so.

At the foot of the stairs Eric swept his lady up into his arms, carrying her easily to her bedroom. He remembered the way, and could smell her presence in the small but cozy chamber. Her sanctuary, the place where she slept and dressed and bathed.

The room where she dreamed.

With such care it was almost maddening, Eric's large but gentle hands undressed her, caressed her, lay her down upon the bed. Leaning over her, the vampire paused, pinned by the sight of her clear blue eyes upon him. "There is a weight in your gaze, lover, that many vampires do not acquire for centuries," he observed, tracing the line of her jaw.

"I've had a full life, Eric," she sighed, and there was something in her wording that unsettled him even more. "Now stop fussing, and come make love to me."

It was the invitation he'd been waiting for, for what seemed like an eternity, and he could not refuse.

Once more upon their special island, where the rest of the world could not intrude, they made love for hours, passing the time with pleasure and play and even some laughter. Where the old favorites were re-visited, and even a few new, Sookie found her favorite position that night was pure vanilla missionary, Eric's massive body above hers, engulfing her, enveloping her completely with his strength and love.

She found an echo of the past in their present moment, she desiring to hide behind him from the darkness outside, to use his pale skin and golden beauty as a shield, even if only for a little while. Once, the thought of such weakness on her part would have infuriated her, but that night, she did not see it as such. She just, simply, had earned it, and she indulged unabashedly.

As for the third time that night both lovers neared their climax, Sookie arched her back against Eric, her most intimate muscles contracting around him with a strength that sent him reeling. "Eric," she sighed, winning a brilliant smile from the vampire above her. He would never tire of hearing his name upon her lips, each letter trembling with such a pleasure-laden timbre.

"Sookie, my lover," he answered, shoulders and arms trembling with the effort to hold himself at bay. She was _so close_, he knew, from the sound of her heart, the tension of her sheath.

She surfaced from his kiss, mind reeling.

"Let me drink from you."

It would make her strong, she told herself. For the battle that awaited her, she could use every little ace up her sleeve.

All excuses, she knew.

At that moment, she craved being one with this man so deeply she could not think around it. It suddenly seemed an _urgent _thing to her, a matter of great importance in the time she had left.

Her request so surprised him that Eric actually paused in his motion above her, pushing inside her, filling her to the brim.

"Do you mean it?"

He craved such an intimacy with her, but knew better than to suggest it, having learned his lessons well of her temper. He'd come so far that night, he wouldn't risk ruining it all, choosing to bide his time.

The fact that she herself requested it filled him with a heart-stopping hope, and in complete stillness he awaited her answer.

"Yes."

The vampire lost no time, resuming his attentions while nicking his tongue deeply upon a distended fang, kissing her in a way that sent his sweet blood into her mouth, and she drank of him deeply.

Much more passed between them besides blood. Sookie felt a trust in him she'd not known in another being since Gran, and the bond flung wide open between them as she ate at his mouth, her fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his skull. Wave after wave of warm emotion washed over Sookie, and filled with the pure sensation of his love for her, his desire and need and wonder and regrets. She saw stars as they came together.

The couple could move no farther than situating themselves with Sookie laying upon the flat of his chest, his clever fingers stroking long lines up and down her spine, prolonging her shivers of pleasure. There was a space between his pectorals that suited the form of her head just _perfectly_, and she intended to stay there for a good while longer yet. Sookie toyed with the golden fuzz upon Eric's stomach, overcome by an intense exhaustion that was just as emotional as physical. In the quiet after their love-making, the sorrow came for her, settling in side by side with the love she felt for the vampire.

Finally, she allowed herself this sweet thing, at what was to be her certain end.

She mulled upon the irony, staring out the window, glaring upon the world outside that would intrude upon them. The dawn that would eventually take him away from her, propelling her in the direction of Jackson.

Only Eric's caresses anchored her at this moment, and through the bond her conflicting emotions marched through him. Fear and sadness, love and trust and regret. He fought to understand, but she did not make it easy, refusing to say a word.

A hero's death had perhaps always loomed in her future, but at that sweet moment, Sookie found with surprise that given the choice, she would pick life.

She would pick Eric.

But the die was cast, and the choice lay out of her hands.

In silence she lay upon him, a single tear slipping through her iron control, sliding down her cheek in the dark.


	9. Ashes to Ashes

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back … so, we're taking a bit of a turn more toward True Blood here, but who cares? Hope you enjoy and thank you! **

**Chapter 9: Ashes to Ashes**

There was one nice thing about hunting werewolves, mused Sookie through a blast of silver-plated uzi fire. They didn't beg for mercy.

They fought to the death with a grim determination.

Or perhaps, simply, their master would accept nothing less of them.

Russell Eddington, king of Mississippi, was a vampire who favored servants of the furry-during-the-full-moon variety, and kept them fueled and loyal with a steady supply of his blood.

It made them a bit harder to kill, but not quite enough.

She'd been picking off the pack for the past three days and nights, and now finally their alpha lay at her feet, exhausted and bleeding.

"I'll make you a deal," said Sookie, voice distant and hard as a mountain. "Take me to Russell, and I'll let your family live."

Cold and calculating, perhaps, but she'd secured the wife and daughter the night before with every intention of using them for her own ends.

Perhaps she'd learned a few things from the vampires she hunted.

Once, Sookie made the acquaintance of the 3000 year old Mr. Eddington at a political function in New Orleans. Some white tie event thrown by the Governor, pandering for campaign funds under the guise of human/vampire cooperation. She'd found it bullshit then, and distinctly remembered the chill run down her spine at shaking Eddington's hand, his crooked knowing smile, and her sudden hope she never _ever _would find herself going head to head with this monster. There was a cruelty in his eyes that no one else quite seemed to catch, and an arrogance she felt certain would someday make trouble. Lo and behold, she was right.

After the untimely death of his lover, Eddington ripped a news anchor's spine out on national television, spitting curses upon humans and throwing down his gauntlet before the world. Out for blood, and already the bodies of innocents were piling high.

Bent on global domination.

Completely bat shit, and Sookie was the last line of defense the Federal government could throw at Russell, short of a nuclear warhead.

Perhaps she could succeed in killing him, but she still felt certain she would not be walking away from it alive. Regret weighed heavily upon her heart, a thought of Eric, his handsome face, a blinding smile, the shape of his laughter in the dark. Though she kept her side tamped down tight, terrified he would come looking for her, she could feel him through the bond they'd established, a steady strength that throbbed within her as sure as her own heartbeat.

Alcide had been the one to set it all off, taking out Talbert, Russell's lover, for a warrant issued on the charge of kidnapping, raping, and killing teenage boys in the Jackson area.

Alcide came back from Jackson in a bag.

So had Quinn.

Reluctantly, the were before Sookie agreed to her terms, though by the violence glinting in his eyes, she knew he would betray her at first opportunity.

She didn't intend to give him the chance.

Since the television incident, Russell had abandoned his capital mansion, going into hiding somewhere nearby.

At long last, Sookie would find out exactly where, and the nightmare could really begin.

**OIOIOIO**

"This is horseshit!" raged Nan Flannigan, throwing down a slew of photographs of Russell upon the long boardroom table. As though every vampire in the room didn't already know exactly what the three thousand year old vampire looked like, after his face had been broadcast all over the world twisted with maniacal glee, a news anchor's spine gripped in his hand. "Where the fuck could he be?"

Eric Northman sat quietly, slouched in his seat with arms crossed, as the other vampires babbled to the AVL's spokeswoman, trying to cover their asses with useless suggestions.

In truth, he only paid half a mind to the situation at hand, the emergency meeting called by the Authority that he'd been dragged into attending at his queen's behest. Most of his thoughts ran to Sookie, the pain in her eyes as they'd said farewell for the night not so long ago, and the very bad feeling he had about all this.

"Of all times, we're a hair's breadth away from ratification of the vampire rights amendment!" Nan went on. And on. And on. Until finally Eric could take it no longer, his heart in his throat, even if his eyes were chilled as ice, his voice deep and sure.

"I'll take care of it," he promised quietly, standing from his seat.

The room fell to silence, all glowing eyes upon his towering form. He held the attention of the room with the bearing of a king, and Nan bristled for a moment at the loss of the floor before turning snake-like eyes upon the Viking at the other end of the table.

"You're a third his age, Eric Northman, what makes you so sure you can bring him in?"

"No one else seems to be volunteering," he countered with a sneer, gazing upon the cowards surrounding the table.

A poisonous smile crossed Nan's lips. "Very well. Dead or alive, Northman, bring him in. The Authority would be quite grateful to you for such a service."

Clearly, she thought he wouldn't survive the encounter.

_Fuck the authority_, thought Eric, nodding before turning on his heel, exiting the room full of bureaucrats and paper pushers. How could vampires be reduced to such petty insignificance? Not even the dark gift could cure their pathetic penchant for politics.

Eric cared not for any reward the Authority could dream up, for he suddenly felt certain he knew where Sookie had been sent to do battle. Though she'd been on leave, this was a disaster. She wouldn't stay away from such a thing, safe on the sidelines. How could he have overlooked it?

And suddenly, with a pang so deep in his chest as to steal his undead breath for a moment, he understood the haunted look in Sookie's eyes. That she'd kissed him not farewell, a few nights ago, but _goodbye, _knowing the foe she prepared to face_._

In the name of duty and saving human lives, she would sacrifice everything. And though she had her faults, at heart, Sookie quite possibly was the bravest human he'd ever known.

His wonder mixed with anger, that she would go to her death in such a way. She could have asked for his help, at the least.

He knew, however, that she hadn't because she feared Russell would put an end to him too.

Eric had met Russell Eddington before, tasted his power, and knew Sookie for all her strength, still wouldn't stand a chance alone.

Taking to the air, cold fear raging through his veins, Eric followed the thin thread of their bond and hoped to Odin he would make it to her in time.

**OIOIOIOIO**

Sookie couldn't help but laugh at the sight before her, as she and her werewolf hostage approached Russell's alternate hideout in his truck. It was a considerable downsize from the capital he'd inhabited before, but still, a storybook mansion any southern girl had once dreamed of inhabiting with Rhett Butler in her youth.

In other words, the egotistical and ancient vampire had been hiding right under their noses, albeit a little outside of town, down a lane lined with centuries old liveoaks.

Dressed in tight jeans and far too much makeup, she fit the part of a werewolf's harlot quite well - the guard barely blinked at the sight of her, waving them through the gate.

Sookie's dhampir senses screamed out, the closer they approached. Vampires awaited ahead. Old ones, dangerous ones. She toed her duffel bag full of dangerous goodies at her feet as a security blanket, the gun trained upon her driver hidden beneath a sweat shirt never wavering from its position.

She left him tied up in the field, a good ways from the house. Alive, true to her word.

Shouldering her bag, the load of guns, knives, and ammunition not half as heavy as her heart, she traipsed towards the plantation house with the intention of decimating all that resided within.

OIOIOIO

"Didn't your maker tell you not to go 'round kissing Dhampirs in public?" questioned Russell with a smug smile, enjoying the situation far too much. The tidbit of the sheriff's indiscretion had reached Russell's ears some time ago, and finally he felt pleased to have the opportunity to use it. "This was almost too easy, Eric Norhtman. But who could have guessed the great Sookie Stackhouse would value _you _as her nearest and dearest?"

With a hiss Eric shifted against his bonds, fantasizing wrapping his long fingers around Russell's throat, tearing at the flesh, ending all this with a snap of spinal cord, just as this psychopath had done on live tv.

Clearly, Russell enjoyed the theatre in putting on a Southern American English accent, as he enjoyed the challenge of adopting the culture of the inhabitants wherever he happened to be on the globe. It was all just a game to him, a big three-thousand year and counting joke. For where the humans and wolves around him would perish, turn to dust, he would remain as a rock of the ages, impervious to the weathering forces of time.

He'd remained a spectator for _so long_.

But in the death of his lover, Russell found their arrogance to have reached its crescendo; now came time to pay the band, and the bill demanded pounds of flesh and blood.

At long last, he decided it was high time to intervene. Humans had been allowed to go on with their ridiculous little lives long enough. The planet was at a putrid and critical stage - there were enough nuclear bombs in existence to destroy Earth twenty times over - war and epidemic raged on. After all this time, they'd learned nothing, done _nothing _in their greed to truly improve themselves.

Soon, they would learn. They would crawl, and they would bow.

Most importantly, they would bleed.

Eric had been waylaid by a troop of older vampires and werewolves alike; ever since Russell heard the infamous Sookie Stackhouse would be coming next, he'd put out an order to have the Viking brought to him.

Her attack would be laughable at best, if she was anything like the others.

Why not have a little fun in the meantime?

It had been centuries since he'd tasted dhampir, and remembered the taste to be sweet as candy to his vampire senses. He paid Eric a sidelong look, clearly amused, his head cocked to the side as he listened to something on the outskirts of his compound. A spatter of gunfire, something akin to that little machine invented by the warring Hebrews.

Eric struggled more against his chains, but could not budge them, the silver burning into his flesh. He knew the sound to be Sookie's Uzi, a weapon she favored in situations such as this.

"Let the games begin," sang out Russell, picking up a stake, and taking a patient seat not far from Eric.

OIOIOIO

Spattered in blood, Sookie fought with all her might and skill, making her way through the maze of the mansion's marble-floored hallways. She'd cleaned out the pack guarding the house with the Uzi, and now out of ammo for that particular weapon, she'd moved on to her favorite Glock 9mm.

All who attacked her fell to her brutal hand, vampire and were alike, but she could feel herself tiring. And she still had to face Russell, something of which she would have liked to do with a full reserve of strength, and a tank.

An alarming pain just over her heart caused her to pause as a vampire fell to her feet - for a moment she thought she'd been injured, until she realized it was a pang from the bond. She'd kept it tamped down _so tight_, terrified Eric would follow her, but something slipped through.

Fear. Regret. Longing.

With a shudder that threatened to turn into a sob, Sookie pushed through the sensation, hoping Eric was safe at home in Shreveport, far away from the madness in Jackson.

She hoped he would think of her, now and then, maybe lay a flower on her headstone. If there was anything left of her body to bury.

A great weight fell upon her mind, causing her vampire radar to positively jump off the charts, and Sookie suddenly knew Russell Eddington must be near. Very near. But so were another handful of vampires, she could tell, just through a pair of tall double doors. The entrance to a ballroom, perhaps, maybe a library.

Inserting a fresh clip into her Glock, she exhaled, going to a still place inside where white-noise reigned. In this place, she could bring herself to do almost anything to survive. She paused for a moment, her hand on the door, eyes closed with the thought of offering a silent plea to whatever deity may have been interested. But she could not bring herself to think of God or something like it in a time like this. All she could see were a pair of artic-blue eyes, a blinding smile filled with love all for her, and with hot tears in her eyes she whispered his name as a prayer before bursting through the doors.

OIOIOIO

She swept through the room with all the force of a hurricane, gun blazing, eyes wild with the fury of the fight. It was a sight beautiful and terrible to behold, and neither Russell nor Eric could tear their eyes from her as she skillfully slaughtered all who came within arm's reach of her.

When the bullets ran out, she pulled the sword from its sheath upon her back, its blade singing out a joyfully clear note in its freedom, painting the floors and walls red with blood.

Russell let her have whatever vampire and were would be so weak to fall to her. True, she was a warrior, but he held no interest in providing shelter for weaklings. There was work to be done, and with glee he allowed Ms. Stackhouse to clear his flock of the weak and stupid.

Until the room became almost empty of life or undeath, the heavy metallic scent of blood clinging heavy in the air. She'd killed them all, Russell marveled, and before she could finish the last, a 500 year old Russian vampire named Vladimir who Russell had thought one of his best assets, he called out, "I wouldn't do that, Ms. Stackhouse."

His voice echoed throughout the ballroom, and her sword raised high for the killing blow, Sookie finally looked in Russell's direction. Her heart dropped to her feet for the sight before her.

Russell stood with a sturdy and sharp ash stake in his hand, pointed for a heart that had become most dear to her in recent months.

"_No_," she whispered, but to vampire hearing it rang loud and clear as a bell.

"Drop the sword, my dear, or else your lover becomes dust."

Sookie looked to Eric, the pain written upon his face, and not for the silver that burned his skin in such an excruciating way. He feared for her at that moment in ways he'd never known. She'd fought so valiantly, with all the skill and brilliance of a Valkyrie - he hoped Russell, an ancient, could at least respect that, and make her death a quick one.

With hardly a second of hesitation, the sword clanged to the ground, rendered useless, docile, without its owner's deadly guiding hand.

Vladmir rose from his knees with the intention of harming Sookie, but Russell quickly pulled the Russian's leash, not about to let the fun end so quickly. "Vladimir - get the fuck out. You disappoint me."

Vlad knew better than to argue. The ballroom door slammed closed, and the trio were left nearly alone, up to their ankles in corpses. Three more vampires remained close to Russell, his personal honor guard, and all looked uncharacteristically uneasy to be in the same room as Sookie Stackhouse.

"Well, well. Look at the mess you made," said Russell, gesturing to the bloody bodies upon the floor.

"Let him go," she called, disinterested in his insane banter. "I'm the one you want."

"Yes you are indeed," answered the King with a chuckle. "But I have to ask you, Ms. Stackhouse, what are you willing to trade? Because I find humans these days to be a pathetic and unprincipled lot. No one remembers what it means to _bleed _for that which is yours. Y'all are born with an innate sense of entitlement to Tvs, big houses, SUVs and the gas to put in 'em - So tell me. What would you sacrifice to see this big hunk of Viking safe?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Sookie raised her chin high, something hard and certain glinting in her eyes. "My life for his. Is that sufficient?"

She knew Russell would accept nothing less than everything.

"No, Sookie!" called Eric in a panic. "Don't-"

Russell silenced Eric with a hand upon his mouth, and did not even flinch as fangs shredded at the palm of his hand, an expression of pleased surprise twisting his features.

"My my. Just when I thought I could no longer be surprised."

He made a brusque gesture, and his honor guards stepped forward to unchain Eric, so that only his hands remained bound by silver. "Take him back to Shreveport 'fore you set him free," ordered Russell casually. "Miss Stackhouse and I need some alone time."

Eric struggled against his captors, but their combined strength outweighed his. "Spare her," Eric growled in passing the King, "And I will give you anything. You can have my life, or my loyal service, for anything you wish."

But Russell shook his head, waving the baby millennium vampire on. "We both know you would betray me at the first opportunity, Northman - and it's not your blood I want tonight."

The lovers eyes locked in passing, red-rimmed as they were, and Sookie and Eric both almost fell to their knees as she flung to bond wide open with the greatest abandon she'd ever known. She sent Eric the truth of her love for him, a deep and fierce creature she kept within her, and blood tears trailed down his cheeks as wave after wave of warmth accosted him, wrapped him up and attempted to soothe.

But there could be no relief, and she felt the depth of his sorrow as surely as his love. _Not for me_, rang out in her mind, startling her as his voice filled her, the marrow of her bones. _Please don't do this for me._

_Who else, but you? _she finally answered, watching as the guards dragged him towards the doors, but he refused to look away. _I wish you the best, Eric Northman. Think of me once in a while._

The doors slammed shut with an ominous boom, and Sookie found herself left all alone with a 3000 year old psychopath.

"What a grand gesture," mused Russell, stepping down. "A love of epic proportion. How rare and sweet it is."

In the blink of an eye, he gripped her hair roughly, turning her head to expose the smooth line of her neck.

"Talbert and I shared a love as such," he confided, and for the first time the sing-song playfulness subsided in his tone, giving way to the darkness of anguish. "I would have made the same sacrifice for him, but I wasn't given the choice. I'm almost sorry you've been dragged into all this, after such a rare display." He leaned down to sniff at her pounding jugular, closing his eyes for the bouquet that wafted towards him. "Mmm, but its been a _long _time since I've tasted dhampir. So maybe I'm not sorry after all."

As his fangs sank past the fragile skin of her neck, Sookie flinched. For every step the guards took, she could feel them dragging her heart farther and farther away from her, and she hoped they would really let him live.


	10. You, The Living

**Chapter 10: You, The Living**

Gravestones are monuments erected not so much for the deceased, as they are for the ones left behind to go on living.

Even still, Eric couldn't help but think Sookie would be pleased with hers, could she see it. In the old graveyard where generations of Stackhouses lay, her own stone kept vigil over them all, a black granite valkyrie standing tall and watchful. Though she leant upon a great sword, it was her expression that Eric found the most poignant - even in youthful features carved of rock, she seemed at peace.

He did not like the essential texts of the gravestone, however. They conveyed far too little - a name, two dates. A beginning, and an end. What of all the rest, the in between? No paltry dash could possibly contain it all, all she'd _been _and _done _and it was this thought that brought the vampire to his knees in the soft grass beside the grave.

All the love they'd shared. Who would he be now, without her? How long since he'd thought of _himself_, without Sookie somewhere nearby, just a sentence away in the story of his own life? A paragraph. A few miles. Rarely even a state line.

A price could not be named that the Viking would not pay, just to hold her one last time. Her fragile body filling his arms, warm breath of life against his neck. Laughter.

Full lips pressed to his.

Too many memories of joy to bear, and he clenched his fist upon the cool stone of her marker as he withstood them. He closed his eyes, seeking the infinite darkness within, only to find her face emblazoned upon his soul.

Eric would carry her with him for the rest of his days.

His memory transported him to the night of her attack upon Russell. The way he'd broken away from his guards, tricked them, killed them both and raced back to the antebellum mansion fast as he possibly could. Praying to Odin he would not be too late.

The Viking found them both lying upon the floor in a puddle of mingled blood.

Russell had met the true death, though how exactly remained a mystery.

Sookie herself still possessed a spark of life, though ever so faint. She would fight death, as she fought everything in life, stubborn to the end.

A decision lay before Eric, and the window quickly closing. She'd proved herself unafraid of death before, in the face of further embroilment in vampire affairs. Three choices remained for her: death, healing, or immortality.

A week later, Sookie awoke in a hospital bed, familiar Viking fingers clasped around hers. When a weak but genuine smile spread upon her lips, it finally seemed as though life might be possible again. A seemingly absurd thought, for a thousand year old vampire, but he'd never valued a life more.

"You didn't turn me," she sighed, pleased, thumb caressing the back of his hand.

He'd given her a mouthful of blood to stabilize her, and whisked her away to the hospital, throwing her to the hands of human medicine and human fate. They way she herself would have chosen, given a conscious vote.

Though she never could quite recall what happened in those last moments with Russell, in what exact way she'd triumphed over him, what last dhampir trick she'd pulled from her bag - she did remember her dreams, one in particular so lucid and vivid she could have sworn it occurred in reality and not the realm of the resting mind.

Upon returning home from the hospital, she'd told Eric of her dream while they spooned in her bed, aching muscles ordered to rest. She'd drifted afloat on a river of sighs, a blanket of glittering stars spread out above her, cool waters lapping at her body from all sides. In this way she floated upon her back for what could have been hours or days, until a heavy fog rolled in, obscuring all view.

She'd fancied she swam in a cloud, and translucent shapes brushed against her in the water, caressed her soothingly. _This way_ they'd coaxed, and calmly she'd followed them through the mist, paddling slowly.

But some urge deep within her had caused her to look back; a pang in her soul, as lot's wife could not resist looking back over her shoulder to Sodom, secretly longing for the home she would abandon.

A shape formed in the mist, a fearsome head, a towering dragon, until a longship came fully into view, sails left limp in this windless still place. In a world of gray, Eric's blue eyes shone as a beacon, and without protest she gravitated to his arms, allowing her love to pull her from the water.

_Don't go_ sighed the shapes around her, attempting to pull her back. But in Eric's arms, Sookie found her anchor, and she could not be swayed. The ship turned in its course, sailing back in the direction from whence it had come.

With a shudder after the first telling Eric had pulled her closer, humbled by how very close to true death they'd both come, the threshold of death's door waiting to receive the both of them.

But death had been forced to wait, nearly a century after that, the power of being dhampir and vampire's bonded holding it at bay.

Sookie cut her ties to the Federal government, as Eric gave up the position of sheriff. Suddenly it seemed too much remained to be lived for, to let precious minutes be eaten up by violence and politics.

Life marched on, fast and sweet for the happy pair. There were disagreements over the years, yes, but they'd been blessed with perspective, living so close to death. They knew what things in life merited true importance.

Eric and Sookie traveled the globe, several times over, but just as the world seemed unrecognizable in its feats of modern technology the old farmhouse on Hummingbird road always waited for them, a timeless constant and boon of their past in a world of dizzying change.

Several times, Eric begged of Sookie to accept the dark gift, to walk the night forever with him. Stubbornly, she refused to give in, choosing to retain her humanity, her fragility, her susceptibility. It was not that she did not love Eric enough; there were some nights when her heart caught in her throat at just the sight of him, the voracity of her love for the vampire startled her so. Then _why _turn his offer down?

She would shrug, give a mysterious if not apologetic smile in answer. Press his cheek, kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, and distract him from the question with the delicious beauty of their present moment.

In time, Eric came to understand.

For all her love for him, Sookie also craved peace, when the time came. Rest, from all the pain inherent in living. For though it took strength and resolve to watch the centuries pass by, the way vampires clung to life also smacked of a certain cowardice to face what could lie beyond. Something _other _than this world; no one could know for certain what awaited after true death.

Could it be so simple as a river, drifting on and on, he wondered? A great body of water filled with peaceful souls, forever content to stare up at a starry sky? That too, he doubted.

He doubted often.

With Sookie, Eric found he doubted in ways he'd never dreamed possible; one balmy summer night in Barcelona, strolling the sycamore lined avenues, Sookie paused to watch a group of children kicking a futbol around the park, a small smile curling her lips. Though his exterior remained unaffected, a wave of panic accosted his heart, and he wondered if she would regret her choice of him.

"I don't want any," she assured him, pressing his hand, knowing as she always seemed to know the particulars of his inner workings, the cause of all his pangs.

"There is no regret in you?" he'd questioned, and he too felt an ache in Sookie. Yet, she shook her head no, and somehow he believed her.

"Jason will not procreate - you are the last of your family, Sookie. Perhaps you should have a child," he found himself suggesting, as though his voice were a separate entity from him.

She'd looked up to him with one blond eyebrow raised. "Find me a way to have your child, Eric Northman, then maybe. Otherwise, I'm not really interested."

He never did manage to find a way - and then Sookie aged past the point of childbearing. Still, the thought that she would be spoiled for him once past the blooming flower of her youth was a laughable thing. She and Eric loved and made love, long after she could still be considered young.

And then, in what seemed like a blink of the eye, time passed so quickly, filled with so much joy between them, Sookie was no longer young.

Next, she became old.

Still, he remained by her side. Because though her body weakened, the mind remained sharp. The Sookie Eric loved remained the same, even as the shell changed. What would he do without a night filled with her laughter, he began to fear? Her snarky wit, her loving whispers? She could see it in his eyes, but they did their best to remain strong, for the sake of each other.

One night, having left the farmhouse only to feed, a fluttering weakness overcame Eric mid-flight. Simply, _he knew._

With a heavy sense of deja-vu, he raced back home to her, fighting for strength, hoping he would not be too late.

The scene that greeted him upon his arrival in their bedroom would remain emblazoned in his memory for the rest of his life: Sookie's body thin and frail, her long silver hair spilling to her waist, glowing in the moonlight. Ethereal, yet so very human. She leaned against her bureau, clutching her side, short of breath.

Upon feeling him near, she paid him a tragic smile. "I'm sorry, lover. I'm feeling a little weak tonight."

She would be 110 years old in two months, and though she did not quite look the part, it was still a _long_ time for a mortal body to live.

But that night, Eric smelled death upon her, and she did not fight him as he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to rest upon the bed. As she had so many nights before, she lay upon his broad chest, wrapped in the sanctuary of his arms. In and out she drifted, feeling her strength sap from her bones, her heart, her lungs. Long fingers slid soothingly through her silver hair, silent blood tears gathering in Eric's eyes, trailing down his cheeks.

She did not try to assure him, told no soothing pretty lies. They'd known this day would come, though neither could ever completely prepare for it.

Her voice came faintly in the dark, and only with the gift of vampire hearing could Eric make out her words. "In this long life I've lived, the only true regret I can think of was the decade I spent away from you. I'm sorry I was so headstrong."

Eric found it amusing, perhaps touching, that she would apologize to him now, for the first time, of all nights. They rarely spoke of those dark times; they seemed so very far away, in the face of all their other adventures.

"I too am sorry, for the mistakes I made with you," he finally said, finding his voice caught stubbornly in his throat. "But you have filled my life with far more love and joy than pain and suffering, Sookie Stackhouse. It is more than most can say to each other - and for that, I thank you."

Sookie smiled weakly as he kissed her fingertips, her palm, and softly, her lips. The moisture of tears also glittered in her eyes, and with a wistful sigh she settled back against his chest. "My silver-tongued Viking," she whispered. "How I have loved you."

"My beautiful lover, my stubborn warrior," he countered. What more could he say? Mere words could not embody the depth of his emotion for her. These feelings ran deeply within him, embedded as veins of gold within a timeless mountain. "You cannot know what you have meant to me."

These were the last words the dhampir and the Viking ever spoke to each other. Amidst the agony, Eric knew some relief, as he felt her pass, just an hour before dawn.

He'd feared that he would be forced to leave her alone, to take shelter from the coming sun. For so long she'd felt certain she would die with her boots on, in some bloody battle. What a sweet passing, to have instead known peace at the end, an old woman in her lover's arms?

As he held her close the vampire wept for the lover he'd lost, the companion, the brave woman with whom he'd known so many adventurous nights.

And still, by her grave in the grass, he cried. The nights ahead seemed impossibly heavy; in all his years, he'd never known such _pain_. Such weight in the prospect of facing life alone once more, moving on, finding something new. What more could there be for him, after knowing such bliss? He wondered if Sookie had ruined the rest of eternity for him; restlessly he would search for such happiness again, as he'd searched for the millennium leading up to the moment he met her.

The days following he would prowl the house restlessly, searching out traces of her, scents upon the bedclothes that would fade with time, only to be known in his memory. He would brood upon the couch where they'd made love so many times, the back still imprinted from the grip he'd once accosted it with, that first fateful night. He stared at the ceiling without the slightest inclination to move for hours on end.

On one of his darkest nights he found the envelope, left in plain view upon her bureau among bottles of perfume and her grandmother's jewelry, overlooked by him many times over. It was addressed on the outside simply, _To You, The Living. _

With a trembling hand, he opened the envelope to find a note in her hand.

_Eric-_

_Words have always failed me, in their attempt to describe the way I love you. They are too small, too imprecise, too meager to begin. My hands and lips and eyes always served my heart better in this-yet I want you to know I could not have lived a better life, than the one spent by your side. Though you know this house is yours now, I want you to leave. It's time to begin a new adventure, my Viking. Mortality was my destiny - immortality is yours. Stop moping. Be brave. Think of me sometimes. I love you and wish you the best - Sookie. _

Despite of himself, a small smile curled Eric's lips.

Sookie _would_ give him orders, even from beyond the grave.

Folding the note carefully, Eric slid the paper into his pocket, casting a look around the bedroom they'd shared for so long. Longingly, he inhaled her scent, caressing the bedspread with long fingers, the pillow where her head had lain.

On long legs he slowly made his way through the house, shutting doors as he went, until locking the front door behind him. From the yard he turned to regard the old farmhouse, looking to what had been her window. What seemed like a lifetime ago, he'd tapped upon the glass, asked her to let him inside.

Little did he know the ride she would take him for.

"_Goodbye, lover._" His heart filled to bursting with the memory of her, his soul laden with the burden of loss, yet a wistful smile upon his lips, Eric took to the air.

**FIN**

**A/N: Thank you, THANK YOU, everyone for the overwhelming response to this fic! It's been a pleasure and privilege to entertain you. :) If you enjoy my writing, I have EXCITING news about an original project! Check out my profile page for more details.**


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